


Playing Human

by takumiraine



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Canonical Character Death, Competent Tony DiNozzo, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mentions of F/M, Mentions of M/F/M, Minor Original Character(s), Oops, Pining Tony DiNozzo, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, Tony kind of has a praise kink, Vampires, blink and you miss it mentions of past abuse, blood play (sort of), homophobic slur, mentions of past relationships - Freeform, slur, vampire!Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 65,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5536175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumiraine/pseuds/takumiraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NCIS has a real vampire in its midst, and not the goth coffin sleeper Abby Sciuto, like everyone would expect. "Very Special Agent" Anthony DiNozzo is the nightwalker, and is determined not to let anyone know. It's tough to keep a secret when you work with some of the best investigators in the country. But Tony is going to do his damnedest to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cherry Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, so I'm crossposting this on Fanfiction.net, and so you'll see it there with the same name and all that nonsense. I'm slowly editing as I repost over here. Also, I have noooo clue what to tag this as, so if anyone needs anything tagged, please let me know, I'll be updating them as this goes along. 
> 
> Enjoy and feel free to leave me comments/questions etc. I promise that they're all read, even if I don't respond.
> 
> Just a quick note, some parts of the story are canon compliant, others are helixed off, I'm following the general path of the canon so far, and definitely move things around as need be. But I hope you liked chapter one and continue to read :)

Tony DiNozzo was far more selfless than people realized. Snatching that letter away from McGee and opening it before Gibbs could was a calculated move. Even if the older man had never been sick, there was no way that he could survive an attack. Not that the younger field agent knew that the letter was contaminated. Not even with his stronger-than-your-average-human senses could he tell that there was something dangerous in the letter. He just lived by the creed of 'it's better to ask forgiveness than permission'; Gibbs' rule number eighteen. Since Gibbs didn't believe in apologies, all he thought he'd be punished with was a head slap and a 'don't do it again DiNozzo.' before his boss worked his ass into the ground. Which was likely where people would think he belonged if they knew the truth about what he was.

Instead he wound up contracting one of the few human diseases that could weaken his kind so badly that they would be unable to hunt and thusly easier to kill. It could even make him so weak and starved for so long that his blood content would run low enough that it turned to sludge in his veins. After that happened only a specialized healer could reverse the damage and it wasn't always successful. But he couldn't ask for a special healer or even a pack of blood unless he wanted to out himself as inhuman. He knew Abby would be ecstatic, but it was the rest of the team that he'd have to worry about. It would be just his luck if someone was a descendant of a hunter. That was a profession just as instinctual as his needs were. Maybe it would be Kate. She never liked him all that much. Her being a hunter would explain so much about that.

Still, he knew she wasn't sick, and yet she stayed. It was easy to tell. She wasn't hacking her lungs up like he was, her lips and fingers weren't turning blue. She was doing this for him. How noble. He tried to give her his best shit eating grins whenever he could but he couldn't deny that trying to fend off this sickness was eating at his energy reserves faster than he had thought possible. From what he knew about vampire metabolism, the blood was stored in his stomach which had been modified by the change to produce enzymes to break the blood apart and transfer the proteins that made them to his bone marrow where they would be rebuilt and used. However if he was sick like this then those proteins would be used to build white cells and help fight the germs instead of creating red cells. He still didn't know what happened to food and water with his stomach's function changed, but at the moment he was too thankful that he had fed right before coming into work that morning.

He had just come to terms with the fact that his odds were slim when Gibbs came storming in like some kind of wrathful angel, all business. He had always looked up to the man, with bursts of lust mixed in at random intervals. Usually when he was almost dead, or hadn't gotten any recently. Or when he was starving, he'd keep flashing over to thoughts of having the man pinned against a wall wanting to be bitten and ravish him afterward just as much as Tony wanted to do the biting and be ravished. Alas he was certain that was just a fantasy, even if the headslap that he got from Gibbs was gentler this time, more of a caress than anything else. Being ordered not to die was the thing that sealed his fate for him. If it was an order from Gibbs, then he'd do everything in his power to comply.

His focus kept cutting in and out, but he was anchored to reality more firmly when he felt Gibbs press something into his hand. His fingers closed around it, trapping his boss' warm hand in his icy grip as well, letting the warmth of that calloused flesh soothe him as he half listened to what Gibbs was saying about women and someone named Spankie. He parroted the name weakly, hazel orbs seeking out, then locking onto the bright blue ones. They stood like that for what must have been an eternity before Gibbs pulled away with a frown on his face, eyebrows knit together and just the slightest hesitation in his movements. He stood like that for a moment or two more, before turning and walking back to presumably work on the case. Tony swallowed, before closing his eyes and focusing as best he could on his breathing, still clutching the phone that Gibbs had left. He heard Kate come back in so he figured the worst must be over.

He had never been so wrong.

  
  


***

"Gibbs, you can't keep me here forever!" It had been three days since Tony DiNozzo had been released from the hospital and he was half pacing, half stumbling back and forth in front of his boss, before stopping to lean on a chair, nearly gasping for breath. "As much as I appreciate you watching over me like I'm a frail invalid, I'm going stir crazy in this house of yours boss!" It also went without saying that he was starving and hadn't been able to sneak out for a quick bite since the day he had gotten sick. He was dangerously low in his blood supply, but staying moving kept it from coagulating in his veins. He knew that Gibbs would be more than willing to lend him a wrist (' _or a neck, or a thigh_ ', his mind supplied unhelpfully) if he asked, that was just the type of guy his boss was, but that would also lead to questions. Questions that Tony did not want to answer.

"I am not letting you out of this house. Especially at this time of night and in your condition! What part of 'recovery' don't you get DiNozzo?" Gibbs was being firm, something that he really should have expected. A thought came into his head, and it was worth a shot.

"Well boss how about this, you give me an hour. Sixty minutes. And if I'm not back here in that time you can have McGeek-squad trace the gps in my phone and give me all the headslaps you can handle." Tony watched him consider it, on the brink of shaking his head, denying the request for a bit of fresh air. But eventually he nodded, face mottled into a scowl.

"One hour." Tony launched himself from where he was leaning and enveloped Gibbs in a tight hug before he could think about it. Practically jumping back and heading for the door as soon as he realized what he was doing.

"Thanks boss! Be back soon!"

"And you better keep that damn phone on DiNozzo!" Gibbs called as he shut the door firmly behind him. He walked a block before having to stop to take a breather. At this rate he was never going to make it to the nearest vampire friendly bar and back in time. There was only one thing left to do, call in a favor. He started walking again, towards where he knew there would be an ATM that he could get some cash out of. Pulling out his phone he called the one guy that he knew would be able to help him.

"You've reached Night Delight, this is the best bartender in the world speaking, what can I do for you?" Tony couldn't help the grin that appeared when he heard that voice. It was just the person he had wanted to talk to.

"Nis? It's Tony, I have one hell of a story to tell you, it's practically medieval. But first I need a favor. My boss is having me on a pretty tight leash through my recovery, hell I wouldn't be surprised if he was following me now, but I need three feeders out to the corner of Ninth and Cypress. Is that at all possible?"

"I hope that leash is literal!" he could feel the leering through the phone and couldn't help joining in the laughter, though his petered off to a wheeze causing Nis to make a worried sound. "I'll be there soon Tony, just hang tight." The phone call clicked off with a blown kiss, and Tony smiled, retreating back to the shadows, to watch for the telltale signs of Gibbs following him. So far there were none, but knowing Gibbs he was willing to sit a block or two back and watch him through a sniper's scope. Well, if he found out, Tony would deal with the fallout like a man.

Minutes ticked by and Tony watched his phone, letting the time pass him by effortlessly. After fifteen minutes, a silver car pulled up to the curb near him, four people piled into the small sedan. The doors opened almost simultaneously, but a blonde head was the first one out, a lime green and pink glow stick necklace around his neck. Of course Nis had come along, the wiry, but still lightly muscular blonde was such a gossip, there was no doubt that he'd show up. Electric blue eyes locked immediately onto Tony's own hazel ones as the vampire practically skipped closer, placing his hands on Tony's knees and leaning close to him.

"You look like death warmed over, baby." he tipped his neck, perching on Tony's lap in offering. "Let's get something warm into your system then you can tell Nissy-boy everything." DiNozzo nodded, pressing his lips to the blonde's neck seeking out the best place to bite, before sinking his fangs deep. Adonis' breath caught in a gasp before relaxing into a soft moan. the blood was hot and sweet on his tongue, like fresh hot chocolate, only far more satisfying. All too soon a hand pressed to his cheek gently moving his head away from the wound. "Not too much now baby, there are three others waiting to help you, I just wanted the edge to be taken off before you got some humans." Nis let Tony close the wound with his tongue, lightly pressing against the small holes.

"Where would I be without you man? I really owe you now." The blonde laughed and hopped off Tony's lap, straightening the thin lime green tank top and skin tight jeans with hot pink paint smears. nobody else took the place on his lap, instead opting to sit next to him and offer their wrist or neck that way. There were two brunettes, one a standoffish male that reminded him too much of a young Gibbs, and a giggling girl who just melted into a puddle of mush when he smiled and winked at her. There was also a pale blonde who gave him a shy smile and kept his head down.

Unlike vampire blood, human blood tasted more like the broth of a rich stew, packed with meat and vegetables. It warmed him to the bones and made him content and ready to stretch out in front of a warm fireplace. "So now what did my big bad fed catch this time hmmm?" Nis asked reaching out and running his fingers through Tony's hair lightly.

"Well I just saved my team from the pneumonic plague. Not a big deal. How much do I owe you for dinner?" he asked, licking his lips like a satisfied cat.

"DiNozzo! I said an hour!" Tony's head snapped up and Nis stepped back, the humans already snuggled up in the back seat of the car, ready to be paid and get boozed up.

"Don't worry about it Tony, you can get the next round." Another wink and Nis disappeared into the car, before driving away.

"Yes you did, and you're early boss."

"I'm not early DiNozzo you're late, who the hell were they?" Gibbs came closer as Tony stood, gesturing with this left hand at the fading lights.

"Who? Them? Oh they're just some friends from way back. I was gonna pay him back for a dinner he bought me a while back, but once he found out that I nearly died, he told me we were square."

"And the red junk on the corner of your mouth?" Tony had the sudden sinking feeling of being in the interrogation room again, only on a much more damning scale. He reached up and felt the offending substance, wiping it away with a fingertip, grinning and brushing it onto his pants.

"Cherry crush lipstick. That hot little brunette was wearing it and insisted she kiss me for my troubles. Nothing to worry about boss." Tony stated with a carefree shrug, getting up from where he was perched and heading back towards the way he had come, past Gibbs.

"DiNozzo!" The voice following him was harsher than normal, perhaps tinged with a bit of worry. He stopped and turned to face the owner, an eyebrow quirking in question.

"Yes boss?"

"I brought the car." He stated gesturing in a way that suggested he was riding back whether he wanted to or not. Damn, he was feeling better from the fresh blood in his system even though it wasn't 100% yet. Still he got into the car without much fuss.

"Thanks for the ride back, sorry for worrying you."

"Never apologize Tony." The vampire couldn't help but chuckle, of course Gibbs would quote rule six. It seemed to be one of his favorites. Still, he couldn't help but notice that there was a softer note to his voice, not the hard edge he was used to.

"I know, it's a sign of weakness." He thought he heard Gibbs make a little hum of affirmation, but he hadn't been paying that much attention. He was too busy realizing how much he liked the sound of his first name on Gibbs' tongue when there wasn't an emergency. He could get used to that. Even if he knew that he'd eventually have to go back to the isolation of his shitty apartment.

He'd be back at work soon enough too, and then Kate, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, and McGee would help at taking the edge off of his loneliness.

 


	2. Hell of a First Week

Anthony DiNozzo had quite the trying first week back at NCIS, even though technically it was only his fourth day. He had spent a week at Gibbs' house. sleeping in the guest room and having the other man mother henning him about wandering off. Or eating, or just taking it easy in general. But that was hard to do in a house without a big screen television, wireless internet or decent conversation. Playboys wouldn't have gone amiss either, but he wasn't about to go ask Gibbs where he kept his porn stash, or worse yet, gone digging between the man's mattress and box spring for the cache of magazines.

So while Gibbs was at work, Tony had his friends meet him on the porch, where they'd sit on the stoop and talk, Tony drinking out of a water bottle filled with blood. He had made friends in that bar, and they knew of his job title, but few believed it since he never went in visibly armed. It had usually been Ami coming to visit while Nis worked. The blond preferred to work days so he could party nights. Ami was far older but didn't mind working night as the activism she participated in was a daytime activity. She wanted all animals treated fairly and humanely. Tony couldn't fault her for that. She was a much better conversationalist than Nis was too. She blamed that on the age that they were turned and how long they had been vampires. Nis had been turned in the peak of his prime at twenty one, and his habits and way of speaking reflected a college kid's even though Nis had been around since World War Two. Physically, Tony had almost a decade on that, even though he had been a vampire for only fifteen or so years. If you went by physical age alone Ami was the 'youngest', her body holding out at sixteen, although most wouldn't recognize that from how she dressed and spoke. Looking into her bright, grass green eyes though, you'd know the truth, that she was much older than anyone knew, and her memories weren't good to her.

It reminded him of the type of woman Gibbs would probably go after. Gentle smiles, lots of laughter, enjoyed building things, and of course a redhead. ' _Not too bad in the chest department either,_ ' Tony mused to himself with a chuckle as he escorted her to the door and placed a friendly kiss on her cheek. The timing of her departure was perfect as Gibbs was just getting out of his car. She gave him a polite smile and wave, heels clicking down the sidewalk and to the curb. As she opened her door she paused and looked back at him.

"Take care of yourself Anthony, I'll see you soon." he gave her a grin and a nod, leaning against the doorframe as she drove off and Gibbs walked up. As he had passed her, Gibbs' eyes drew over Ami's form, taking in the neat, yet still almost purposefully mussed hair, the sway of her hips in the heels, the near playful look on her face. He stopped at the top of the stairs and frowned, steely blue eyes drawing over Ami once more before fixing on Tony's once he was sure the girl was gone.

"You sleepin' with her DiNozzo?" The question was tinged with something that Tony couldn't place. Was it irritation that he would go against the doctor's orders? Or that he'd dare to bring in some fine piece of ass when he was a guest. Perhaps it was jealousy coloring his voice, after all, if you didn't know her you'd think she was Gibbs' type, if a bit young seeming.

"Nah boss, we're just friends. If I was gonna have sex I your house, I'd invite you to join us.” Tony paused here and flashed Gibbs a grin and a sly wink, “I mean I've got your six every other time, why not in the bedroom too? It might turn into a bad remake of This Means War, a movie about two CIA agents who fall for the same girl. It's got Reese Witherspoon, Chris Pine and Tom Hardy in it and you really should watch it sometime Gibbs. I promise it's worth it." Gibbs snorted and pushed past Tony, into the house. "Long day boss?" He asked, heading over to the couch and perching on it, ready, as he often was, to jump up the moment he was summoned by the older man.

"Yeah, but tomorrow will be longer. I'm takin you home DiNozzo." Tony made a slightly distressed sound. It wasn't that he didn't want to leave, he just didn't want to be alone again, but did his best to turn it into a contented one. He had come to enjoy the semi quiet evenings of watching Gibbs work on that boat. He knew if he stuck around much longer he'd get to figure out how the damn thing got out of there. But he also knew that he was getting better quickly enough to be able to climb the stairs without having to stop halfway up for a breather.

"And here I thought you were going to tell me you were falling for me and were going to ask me to stay." Tony replied coyly, giving a roguish grin and batting his eyes, settling himself fully onto the couch and leaning back, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment he felt at being told he had to leave.

"You're a big boy DiNozzo." Gibbs walked to the kitchen getting a beer from the fridge, shutting that line of conversation as quickly and firmly as he did the fridge door. Not wanting to push his luck any further, he let the idea of going home drop. If he was going to be honest with himself, he'd miss the way everything smelled so much like Gibbs, or rather how Gibbs smelled like everything here. Coffee, sawdust, wood and zest soap all mingled together with just the faintest hint of beer or Bourbon in the evenings to create something uniquely Gibbs. Something that would definitely be missed.

The final week of his sick leave was spent primarily in Night Delights, chatting to the bartenders and feeders, regaling them with (mostly true) stories of life as a federal agent, only more Sean Connery as James Bond. He also stayed topped up on blood helping him heal more quickly, a secondary concern to alleviating the boredom and loneliness that came with him being back in his own apartment all day and night. His sickness had probably bought him some lung scarring that would take decades to heal at the very least. But the atmosphere of the club was just what he needed to keep from thinking about how without them he'd be sitting at home alone, knowing that he wouldn't be joined later, barring a new case popping up.

So by the time his mandatory leave was up he was more than ready to come back to work, only to find Gibbs trying to convince him to take the final week, and Kate and McGee holding some sort of grudge that he may or may not deserve. Something about telling the girls downstairs not to ask so McGee wouldn't have to tell, and apparently trying to sleep with Kate in Paraguay. He pled the fifth to both things, and pretended he didn't hear them through the opening elevator doors. Of course, they were immediately called out onto a murder scene with a hill that was far too steep for his liking, and a bomb that he just happened to be holding the trigger to as Kate and McGee scrambled back up the hill.

"Anthony, you should have taken that extra week..." he muttered to himself knowing full well that if he could go back from this point to this morning and change his mind he wouldn't have. After all, he stands the best chance of surviving, even injured.

He let the key go and took off up the hill hearing his own pulse race in his ears more than his footsteps or Kate and McGee making a fuss that the car was rigged to explode. He didn't even hear the explosion before he was slammed into the hillside, breath being knocked from his lungs as he was grateful that being a vampire came with enhanced physical skills for the umpteenth time since becoming a field agent as he hold crawled over the top of the hill. It took all of his remaining physical strength to admit to Gibbs and the rest of the team, even with a tired and relieved smile, that he lied about feeling fine, before laying on the crest of the hill. Slowly, as he caught his breath, he began taking inventory of his injuries. Nothing severe, thank god, but a nap wouldn't be remiss.

He wasn't surprised when later Ducky wasn't thrilled to be checking Tony's vitals as he sat on a clean autopsy table. When the orders had come to lay down, he had decided to lay behind his desk, where McGee, the ass, had managed to get him in trouble with Kate. _Again._ Which got the attention of Gibbs, who banished him to Abby's lab. Not that he minded being around the goth girl, she just was easily excited, like a puppy being promised a walk, for example. Now her arms were around him like a vice, squeezing the air from his already complaining lungs and squealing in his ear. Something about being so happy he's alive or unhurt or hell, just visiting her. He really couldn't pay too close of attention with how hard she was squeezing him.

He had just gotten comfortable on the floor of her lab, using the farting hippo as a pillow and chatting about the nuances of the case when Gibbs came to summon him to fight against yet another death threat. This month had to have set a record of personal vendettas. With a groan he got up, passing the hippo back to Abby and trotting out the door, following Gibbs back up to the bullpen, and being put back to work, along with being ordered to eat something.

He grimaced at the thought of human food at the moment, but he doubted that the team would believe it was a juice box if he put a straw in a pint of AB-. So he took a drink of water and nibbled half heartedly at the offered food, eating slowly so it wouldn't upset his stomach.

The next few days passed with a lot of desk work, leading into that fateful fourth day back. The trail of Ari Haswari led them up to a rooftop where Kate had just taken a bullet for Gibbs, in spite of the tension they couldn't help having a laugh about it. After all they believed that the threat was gone, and even though they hadn't gotten Ari, they had thwarted his plan, so it was considered to be a victory.

Until he heard the shot.

He looked to where it had come from hoping and praying that he'd be able to figure out who it was aimed at and react when Kate crumpled in front of him, a neat little hole in the middle of her forehead. Instantly Tony was on the ground beside her, starting CPR and begging her to have a pulse. If she had even the faintest heartbeat he could fix her. "C'mon Kate... Don't do this... Don't let this be over." he mumbled, pressing his ear to her throat, her chest, her lips, hoping against hope for a miracle.

Instead all he got was Gibbs' arms around his midsection, hauling him to cover while the surrounding buildings were checked. He struggled, knowing that it was futile, but his sense of loyalty to the ex-secret service agent wouldn't stop him from blowing his secret if it meant she could be saved. He'd do the same thing for any of the team. His boss' arms stayed firm around him though and eventually he held still, leaning his face against the marine's shoulder, fighting the desperate, frustrated tears as best he could, because not only would it be embarrassing, but his father had always taught him that real men didn't cry. Having fangs and an augmented diet didn't change the fact that he was a real man. And so he wouldn't cry. Even if she was practically has sister. Even if they had been friends. Even if she was irreplaceable and vital to their team. He would not cry.

Surreptitiously he wiped his eyes then wiped his hand on his sock, taking a few more deep, calming breath of Gibbs' scent, the soothing effect helped by the arms still around him. After calming himself he pulled away, leaving flecks of Kate's blood as well as the blood that diluted in his tears on Gibbs' shoulder, both unintentional. He let himself be led back down the building, to assist in the hunt and search after giving his statement, feeling numb and detached. To his credit Gibbs wasn't making any sign of planning to tell what had just happened, but they were partners, they were supposed to have each others backs like that. Tony shot him a grateful half smile, though it was brittle and didn't reach his eyes. in return Gibbs gave him a nod and one of the many weights lifted off his shoulders allowing him to focus more whole heatedly on tracking down Kate's killer.

This would not go unpunished. Between him and Gibbs, maybe even McGee, Ari would pay dearly for what he did. Nobody broke apart their family and got away scot free. Perhaps he would even get Abby to teach him how to boil someone from the inside out without leaving a trace. Then he and Gibbs could go temporarily rogue and watch the bastard die.

But one thing was certain. No matter the method, the bastard would pay.

 


	3. No Buts

Life at NCIS was still topsy turvy, at least for Tony. They had lost Kate, and to make matters worse it seemed like the higher ups were already trying to replace her. Within a day, or even less, they had also gotten a new director and a Mossad agent who didn't seem to know getting her ducks in a row from counting her chickens before they hatched. He didn't trust Ziva, and neither did Abby. She was quickly becoming a favorite in the eyes of Gibbs though, like she was his new partner. He understood that she helped with the Ari incident, but if she took over his spot, then where would that put him? In the bullpen doing Probie work with McGee?

He could still smell the blood, bullet and flesh from that day, and kept telling himself that she could have been saved if he would have tried CPR harder, tried to get some of his blood into her anyways, though deep down he knew it was useless. There needed to be at least some sort of standalone pulse at first, until her blood was partway drained and his could take its place. Then while the initial phase of the change took place chest compressions could occur to keep the blood flowing as muscles and organs changed. By the second phase the person, if they had been in good health to start with, would probably be awake and in pain, but legally alive. The final phase of the transformation sharpened their senses and reflexes. If the damage was severe enough there was a chance not all of it would heal, and brains were especially tricky at least until the virus knew what was supposed to go where. However even then a person could wind up having to let the muscles reteach the brain certain activities, like writing. Putting the letters into words was a brain activity, but writing the letters themselves were mostly muscle.

A 'deadly' headshot was what brought him to Baltimore. If it weren't for Ami's skills at creating new lives for vampires he wouldn't be a cop still. She always bitched that it was much easier before those high tech computers got involved. In the past all she had to do was fake a birth and death certificate, maybe pay off a few people. Now she had to pay off more people to get the DNA and fingerprints changed. At least with a 'high profile' target like him. With time though they would be able to find someone who was on their side, so to speak. Maybe they could trust Abby? Now was not the time to think about recruiting though. Gibbs was looking at him expectantly.

"Go see Abby and get your gear for this mission." The man repeated and Tony jumped to his feet, heading to the elevator.

"On it boss!" he pressed the button to take himself down to Abby's lab, only to hear Gibbs again as the doors were closing.

"Ziva's already down there." He was going to work a mission taking Ziva along? How was he supposed to get anything done if he was watching the Probiest Probie ever to probe? He was, however, incredibly pleased when the doors opened and he could see Abby being all business with Ziva while looking rather sour about it, only for her to brighten and come running over for a hug.

"You're going to LOVE this mission Tony! You get to play a rich spy!" he patted the top of her head and shot a smug grin at Ziva.

"Very James Bond." Tony replied, putting on his best Sean Connery accent. "I'm guessing I get to save the world with you two hot babes on my arms?" he asked pulling one of his 'in character Bond' smirks, looking expectantly at Ziva as Abby took her place on his right arm snuggling up to him playfully. Ziva just scowled at them.

"If you two are done canoodling, I would like to get on with our mission."

"We're not canoodling, we're cavorting. Isn't that right Abby?" he asked, looking to their amused forensic scientist, who nodded emphatically.

"Same difference."

"Actually Zi-vah," Tony stated, smirking lecherously just to get under her skin, like he did with every woman that happened to get placed on their team or be in the unfortunate position of being around him when he had his reputation to protect. "Cavorting is goofing around like Abs and I were doing. Canoodling is," he took a step forward, grin softening as their eyes locked. "Much more intimate..." She didn't step back, but looked over his shoulder instead.

"Is that right DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, the faintest trace of irritation in his voice. "It's a good thing you know what canoodling is, you'll be doing a lot of it this weekend. Abby, gear 'em up."

Pretending to have sex with Sophie Ranier who was being played by the lovely, but slightly frigid, Ziva David, was not only a good workout, but it allowed his mind to wander. They had to work under the assumption that they were under surveillance, which was bad enough on his own, but he couldn't get the last stare from Gibbs out of his mind on top of it.

After walking in on him 'flirting' with Ziva, Gibbs had gotten in his face searching for something in his eyes, perhaps even in his soul. To everyone else it had probably looked like Gibbs was trying to intimidate him, show him who was boss, scold him for goofing off at such an important time in his career, but Tony knew better. Their bodies had been inches apart and Tony felt every cell in his body electrify, he had swallowed, but it was as if suddenly every ounce of liquid had run far from his mouth. He wanted to reach out impulsively, to try and place a hand on those lean muscles, feel them more properly now that he wasn't clouded by grief over Kate. He wanted to try and give an ounce of the comfort that he had been given that day on the roof. He wanted all of that, so suddenly that it took him off guard, only able to mumble a soft "Boss...", which was enough to snap Gibbs out of whatever trance he was in, causing him to turn and leave the room only leaving behind the scent that was pure Gibbs.

He never would have noticed these things had he not spent that week in close proximity with all things Gibbs. Yet with rule 12 in place, he didn't stand a chance, and that was even providing that Gibbs was bi, which Tony doubted severely. So he had filed it away in the back pocket of his mind to examine later when he wasn't so electrically charged from the incident.

His musing was interrupted by Ziva, who pushed at him some to get him to stop doing pushups and look at her. "Do you think they bought it?" her question was accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

"I did." He replied with a grin, Ziva just rolled her eyes.

"That's fairly obvious."  
Tony scowled, almost pouting at her. "For your information that's my knee."

She wasn't seeming to buy it. "Whatever. You can get off of me now." she shoved at him again, hands on his shoulders to mask it if the peeping toms were still watching.

"It's only been ten minutes." Tony paused looking somewhat smug, though he'd call it cocky and charming, "I have a reputation to protect."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "We're not even sure if we're under surveillance yet, Tony."

He resumed the leering smile from earlier, eyes dutifully never leaving hers. "You can't be too careful when you're undercover. Let's give it another forty minutes, just to be realistic."

"Realistic, huh?" The look in her eyes was far more mischievous than seductive, and somewhere the rational part of his brain told him that he should be worried, but he just widened his grin.

"Uh-huh."

"In that case…" The mischievous grin darkened and she shoved more ferociously at him and flipping their positions so she was straddling his waist. "I'm on top."

"I can live with that." Any other day he would be glad to have someone as attractive as her on top of him, mostly naked and looking for the world like she was going to ravish him on the spot. But from spending the last ten minutes thinking about the look he and Gibbs had shared, he was unable to keep focused on the foreign beauty above him, instead it was the image of a naked Gibbs hovering above him, giving him another one of those soul searing looks, about to lean in and kiss him. He was sure Gibbs' lips would be soft yet still firm, ready to take control of the situation in bed just as well as he was able to take care of any situation that arose in the squad room. He was lost in his mini fantasy when all too suddenly a fist was jabbed into his stomach, knocking the wind from his still slightly fragile lungs. "What was that for?" he asked, gasping some.

The impish look was gone, replaced with a frustrated frown. "Because that was definitely not your knee."

Tony gave her an 'I'm sorry but not really' smile and wink still trying to get his breath back since she had removed her hand from his sternum and pressed her elbow into it instead. "Well you're just that hot." Tony groaned as she dug her elbow deeper into his stomach, making every trace of his budding erection disappear, a mixed blessing in its own right. As bisexual as Tony admitted he was (in private anyway) he wasn't about to admit being aroused by his boss. That just crossed too many lines. Not to mention Gibbs was a stickler for his rules.

A knock sounded at his door, and he answered it after McGee called that it was room service. He didn't bother cinching his robe shut, after all why not let the poor Probie see what senior field agents looked like. Layers of toned muscle from sports, but not so flashy that all the other person could think of was the muscle, and covered with a light sheen of sweat from the fake lovemaking. However when he was instructed to turn around and talk to those in charge he was surprised to find he was embarrassed at the knowledge of Gibbs and the director being able to see ALL of him. Yet he stood there preening for just a moment before closing his robe, hoping somebody enjoyed the view, even if it was one of the lonely techs in the corner.

The end of the op found Gibbs, Ziva and McGee busting through the door with a whole slew of FBI agents to rescue him, only to find that he had broken through the restraints and was in the process of exacting his revenge on and restraining the perp that had been beating on him.

"DiNozzo!" The sharp voice carried through the room, causing Tony to sit up on their criminal's back, hands on the just finished knot.

"Uh... Hey boss." Tony replied, looking almost sheepishly at his audience and wondering how long they had been standing there, having been too preoccupied with the one guy to pay any attention to something not deemed a threat. Absently, he wiped some of the blood off of his face, grinning when he saw the very slight upward lip quirk that Gibbs used as an on the job smile directed at him.

"Atta boy DiNozzo. Ziva, McGee: finish up here, Fornell will give you a ride back to NCIS. DiNozzo: with me." Tony jumped up looking between Ziva - who was looking rather miffed that she didn't get to do much beating up - and Gibbs.

"On one condition boss," there was a beat while Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him. "I want a divorce."

Gibbs actually chuckled a bit, shaking his head at his senior field agent. Tony could tell that they all had been worried, so he was trying to diffuse the tension. Judging by the look that had crossed both Ziva and McGee's faces, it worked. At Gibbs' tilt of his head towards the door Tony followed, both missions accomplished.

They had just gotten done with their squad room meeting, Ducky sending Tony home, to be driven by Ziva, when Abby approached Gibbs, surprisingly hesitant. "Hey Gibbs? Can you come down to the lab with me? Alone?" Here she paused, looking at the others who remained in the room before flicking her eyes back up to Gibbs'. "It's important." Gibbs nodded and followed the normally exuberant goth girl down to her lab where there was no music for once, and watched as she pulled up three different slides on the screen in there. She looked at Gibbs expectantly when she was done. "What do you think?" It was obvious that she was worried, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

"It's a blob Abs." Gibbs stated looking at the three nearly identical pictures on the screen, all featuring a greenish yellow blob in what looked to be blood.

"Yes, it is a blob, only not really. It's a virus Gibbs, one that I've never seen before, and doesn't have a record in any database anywhere. It makes enzymes, but I don't know what they do..." Here she hesitated, causing Gibbs to see an 'and' coming on. She looked at the results once more, then at the floor. "And these slides are all of Tony's blood. This one is from tonight, I rushed it, then the middle one is from after he had the plague, I got his blood off your shirt the day Kate got shot," She faltered here, but continued after taking a breath, "and this one on the right is from a few months before he got sick." Gibbs didn't know when Tony had gotten injured enough so that his blood had gotten on him that day, but he hadn't noticed so it couldn't have been that bad. Although he had been so preoccupied with Ari, he probably wouldn't have noticed an elephant if it wasn't charging at him.

"Is it fatal?" Gibbs asked, worried about DiNozzo for the millionth time that week. He had often likened Tony to a virus, getting into a person's blood stream with that infuriatingly endearing personality of his, making people give more of a damn than they had wanted to. Especially people who were already conflicted about what they felt.

"I don't know... For all I know it could be a harmless glitch of DNA he picked up on one of his vacations as a kid. Or he could be dead before work tomorrow." Abby frowned, hugging her boss tightly. Her voice was tight when she next spoke "We just lost Kate, I don't think I could handle losing Tony too..."

"We're not going to. I ordered him not to die. He listens when it's important."

"But..."

"No buts Abby. He will not die." Gibbs would make sure of that.

 


	4. Cherry Crush Revisited

The next few months passed in a blur. Abby, hoping for Ducky to have an idea about what the virus was, had filled him in on what she knew. Not having a clue but worried about Tony, Ducky called Gibbs down to talk about any oddities the other man had noticed.

"Perhaps any physical symptoms would shed some light on Anthony's ailment. Have either of you observed anything?" Abby was the first to shake her head before she reconsidered.

"Well sometimes if he's been working extreme hours because we've got a nasty case he'll be kinda pale, and get really cold, like almost frigid. But he always has some explanation for it, so I don't know if it's really a symptom or not you know? It could just be Tony neglecting his blood sugar. Everyone's blood sugar gets a little hinky if they work a lot without stopping for a good meal. That's why I drink CafPow!. It keeps everything functioning in Abbyland. Maybe I should share some with him the next time he looks all pale. But if it's blood sugar then we aren't any closer to knowing what the virus does!" Abby made a frustrated sound at the end of her rambling train of thought, pacing around Ducky's office as she spoke. She still didn't like autopsy, but she was too worried about Tony to care at the moment, though she was sure she'd shudder about it later.

"Unfortunately we won't be able to tell the difference between virus and natural occurrence without taking blood, and that is not an option if we are trying to remain under the radar. I assume that the reason we are meeting like this is because we do not want Anthony to know that we're onto him if he is aware of the virus and is attempting to keep it a secret. Have you thought of anything Jethro?"

Here Gibbs was torn. He knew there was something off about the behaviors of his senior field agent. First, when Tony was recovering from the plague, he healed much quicker than the doctors said he should have, more quickly than even he said he was. Gibbs had watched him from reflections in kitchen appliances when he was upstairs, and when his back was turned Tony would shift positions quickly enough that he should have been rendered breathless by the strain on his lungs with how solid he was. There was also that whole business with his 'friends' and that lipstick. He had never seen the smudge of a missed kiss that closely before, he knew that there was something decidedly unlike a kiss print about it. There was also the fact that he hadn't liked the thought of anyone getting close enough to kiss his injured agent, but at the moment that was neither here nor there. It was also completely out of left field so he didn't know anything else to do but bury it deeply back into his subconscious mind.

The second thing that didn't sit completely right with him was that Tony did not appear to have any kind of scar on him. The unhindered view in MTAC had allowed Gibbs to do a damage check on the other man, to catalog any scar tissue that could have, or rather - should have, built up from the various stabbings and shootings from his time as a cop in Baltimore, Philly, and Peoria. At least that would be the story if anyone bothered to ask, like their director. What had started as a cursory glance at the man out of amusement had turned into him scanning every inch of the younger agent, taking in each ridge of bone and slight dip between the muscles, the fact that he was flushed, but not overly so, the way he seemed proud of the fact he was flashing not only his boss and a bunch of tech personnel, but the head of a government agency. He stuck to playing the amused parent role with this although he knew that the images would haunt him later. Unfortunately he would never be able to act on those feelings with the agent for several reasons: A) There was no chance of Tony reciprocating, B) They were both men and even if the sexual expectations of military personnel were becoming less stringent, there was no way in hell this would go over well - not that that one was particularly important, it still had to be included for completeness though, C) Rule twelve, and perhaps the most important thing, D) He was straight damn it! He had been married more than once and had a daughter, not to mention there were absolutely no problems in the bedroom department with any of the women he slept with, or even alone for that matter. So there was nothing else to do but chalk the attraction down to the fact that he had recently nearly lost Tony and lost Kate, and as a result he was being unduly attentive.

However there was nothing out of the ordinary on Tony's body, at least to Gibbs' notice. Nothing except a clear expanse of tanned, toned and - if the lack of hair on his chest was anything to go by - waxed flesh. It seemed that no matter how much junk food Tony ate, he was always ready to go, never seeming to be slowed by a meal, apparently never gaining an ounce either. That realization made the fact that he had never seen Tony actually finish a whole meal in one sitting stand out as if put under a spotlight. Maybe he couldn't eat that much at once due to the virus, or maybe he just didn't like junk food that much.

"Jethro?" A voice cut into his musing, causing him to blink and shake his head.

"I don't have anything that could help Duck." He admitted, not wanting to share his speculations and admit just how much attention he paid to his agent. Not until he had something more. He was saved from any further questions by his cell phone ringing. Hoping that it was something mundane that he could play off as important, he answered only to find out that a Petty Officer had been found dead in the upper level of a club. "Better get Palmer, Ducky. We've got a crime scene." Picking up a pen and paper, Gibbs wrote down the address of the club before motioning for Abby to follow him and heading toward the elevator.

"Abby, I need a favor." The words were out of his mouth as soon as the elevator doors closed, hand reaching out to flip the killswitch so they would stay put and have a moment to talk alone.

"Name it Bossman."

"I need you to find me a replica of what Cherry Crush lipstick looks like when a kiss was off center. It needs to be partially wiped off so the only bit that's left is here." he swiped his thumb down from the corner of his mouth, where the stain on Tony's face had been. Sensing that this had something to do with their Tony puzzle she nodded.

"Think the virus is transmittable?" she asked as Gibbs flipped the switch again, setting the elevator back into motion.

"Something like that." He replied, as the elevator doors opened and Abby stepped into her lab. Gibbs rode up to the bullpen to see the team actually doing work for once, although Tony was explaining the importance of idioms in a movie that nobody aside from the videophile had never heard of much less seen. He paused, watching how animated his second in command was as he explained the movie, deciding that the enthusiasm was definitely part of his charm.

He began walking again, striding through the bullpen and grabbing what little of the gear he didn't carry on him off of his desk. "Gear up, there's a dead petty officer in the top room of a nightclub." He didn't wait for their responses before striding off to the elevator that would take them to the garage, though a chorus of 'On it!'s rang out, as a shuffle of canvas signaled the team grabbing their gear and jogging to follow before the elevator doors closed, forcing them to take the stairs.

The fairly short ride was silent, aside from one 'So where are we headed?' from Tony, which was only answered by a shake of the head. He had recognized the club owner's name, and wanted to see Tony's reaction when they showed up to see her standing and waiting for them.

Soon enough they pulled up behind a warehouse where the redhead was waiting. It took Tony getting out of the van with some gear, nearly bumping into her in order for him to recognize where they were. When it hit him he nearly dropped the bag he was holding but recovered it fairly easily. How he had not noticed the neighborhood, or even the route, was beyond him.

"Hello Tony." She stated pleasantly, "And a good morning to you as well Agent Gibbs."

"Hey Ami..." Tony responded, still a little shell-shocked that they were at Night Delight.


	5. Night Delight

****

“McGee, did you know that Tony came to this club?" Ziva asked quietly while Ami explained how she found the dead Petty Officer and that she knew by the dog tags to call them instead of homicide.

"No I didn't. It seems a bit seedy, even for him." McGee replied, just as quietly while eyeing the sign on the back of the door. The sign was plain white, but had the club's logo on it, the tittles above the 'i's looking like sparkling drops of blood, but that was probably a coincidence since the rest of the writing was red and somewhat glittery as well. What they didn't know was that it was the blood drop tittles that distinguished them as vampire friendly.

"If you two are done gossiping about me like old biddies," Tony stated, not turning towards them, but frowning none the less, "then you can go do your jobs." Ziva and McGee looked at Gibbs for confirmation of the order and jolting into motion at the subtle nod from Gibbs.

"I'll photograph." Ziva volunteered, brandishing the camera and starting toward the door, entering with Ducky and Palmer when Ami opened the door.

"And I'll bag and tag." McGee added scampering after Ziva. Tony didn't move at first, proud of the fact that the two newbies listened to him in front of their boss and his friend. Ami couldn't suppress a scherzando giggle, having seen the subtle nod that Gibbs had given the other two. There was a beat, then a second, before a very slightly amused, yet still irritated look crossed Gibbs' face when Tony didn't head off to work immediately. A hand raised up silently and cuffed Tony in the back of his head, jump starting him again.

"I'll dust for prints, on it boss!" Wary of another headslap Tony took off at a jog, leaving Ami watching Gibbs quietly for a moment, the only sound a tinkling laughter muffled by her hand.

"Tony was right about you." Ami stated, not planning on telling him exactly what she meant by that, at least not yet. She turned gracefully, and began leading the way in through the store room to behind the bar and out onto the main floor. Their final destination had her heading towards the now closed off VIP area. "I called in the staff that was working last night, not that there's many of them, even though we're open as a bar most of the day." she gestured to the tables that took up the dance floor in front of the sound booth, some patrons watching them with curious and suspicious eyes. As they passed the touchpad that acted as a jukebox during the day and a direct feed to Jayden's request server pausing to peer in one of the windows as they passed. "Our DJ works nights only, and he's sleeping on his beanbag chair in there. When you want to talk to him I'll take you back there. It's difficult for him to navigate with all of the tables. He may be blind, but Jayden is one of the best DJs I've ever worked with." She unlocked the high gate that blocked the way to the VIP area and led Gibbs through.

Where the rest of the club was classy, but fairly light colored hardwood, the lounge that they found themselves in was decorated in warm hues of mahogany and crimson, plush velvet booths isolated from one another, all with little touch pads on the backs of the tables to order drinks or snacks. Gibbs ignored it in favor of setting out his notebook in a back corner, sitting behind the table.

"Let's start with you. Have a seat and tell me what you know."

"Well I work nights and stay in one of the rooms upstairs. There are a few spares that we rent out to patrons that get their keys confiscated. It's less than a cab ride. The man upstairs was one such patron. His name is Morrison and he checked in..." She paused here, pulling out her keys and unlocking the order pad from it's case before typing in commands to get at her other files, "at two am. Alone. Monique got him set up in his room, I went to check an hour ago and he was dead. I checked for a pulse, tried CPR, no dice. Called you guys first."

"We'll need your prints. Did you notice Petty Officer Morrison getting into any altercations last night?"

"I didn't notice anything, but Matt, Mo, or Kay might. Though with Kay, you'll need someone with sign language." She lowered her voice here, checking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being watched by the bouncer. Convinced she turned back around, speaking just above a whisper. "He has autism, and his verbal language isn't the best, especially around new people. But he's a good guy Agent Gibbs. He's loyal and reliable."

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, jotting the important things that she had said down. "Let me talk to the last one to see him alive." He instructed, prompting a nod as Ami stood up.

He was alone for a few minutes before a brunette with shoulder length curly hair pulled up into a ponytail was shoved up the stairs. The man pushing her along was a taller, more muscular man who looked quite a bit like the young woman skulking towards him. They had the same face shape and brilliant emerald eyes. She was scowling and sporting a healing split lip and quite the nasty black eye as well. Maybe she was the one to talk to about the dead sailor. "Name?"

"Monique James. And before you ask, no, I didn't kill him." The girl, Monique, spat as she sat down and crossed her arms, scowling at him with narrowed eyes. She was, in his opinion, the expression of contempt.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow now, "You were the last one to see him alive last night." Here he paused, gesturing at her face with a pen. "And those are some pretty nasty bruises on your face, I'm willing to bet my people are going to find similar wounds on our victim."

"We fought when I took him upstairs yeah." She stated, shrugging, "But I didn't kill him, even if he is a raving douche."

Gibbs grit his teeth and he could swear the girl smirked at him when she noticed. "Gonna tell me what you fought about?" he asked in clipped tones.

"I could," She watched Gibbs give her a no nonsense glare and she sighed loudly as if doing him a huge favor. "Fine fine, I'll tell you. I took the guy upstairs because he was wasted as fuck and when I went to unlock the door, the bastard pinned me and started kissing me. It was like he thought my being there meant he was gonna get lucky. Not only do I have a boyfriend, I don't like the military types. So I socked him one. That pissed him off and he swung back and caught me in the eye. I opened the door and knocked him onto the bed, went to leave, he called me a selfish dyke and threw his shoe at me knocking me into the door. There's still probably blood on the back of it. I wanted to stab his ass, but I didn't. I went back downstairs and filed a report. Then I went back to work. I'm a bouncer. Can't say I'm sorry he's dead though."

Gibbs nodded, noticing something peculiar about her teeth. It could have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn the teeth in her mouth shifted when she got mad. He made a note in his book to think about that later. "I'll need your fingerprints and a copy of that report. Send the next one up."

"You won't need the fingerprints, I'm in the system." She stated as she stood up and walked off. He heard a shout of 'Yo Mattie, you're up!' from the girl and shook his head, she was a spitfire, that was for sure, he made a note about her being in the system in his notebook before picking up his phone and dialing McGee, telling him simply to check for blood behind the door before hanging up. As he did the tall man returned carrying a file folder, limping slightly as he walked up the stairs and over to him.

"Matt James, and let me be the first to apologize for my sister. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut." The man offered him a winning, sheepish smile as he extended his hand, and Gibbs shook it. "I've brought a copy of the lounge entrance records for last night. Your vic came over and started making a fuss, wanted to talk to one of the VIP members. Said it was important. The guy that he wanted to talk to let him in, they both signed, the vic left looking pissed about an hour later and went back to the bar." Matt passed Gibbs the folder and he opened it, frowning when he read who the Petty Officer went to see. "You don't need to take my prints either. But unlike my sister, I used to be a cop, not a delinquent."

Gibbs nodded, jotting that down in his notebook as well. "Thanks for the list. Send in the next one."

The rest of the day passed quietly, Gibbs not letting anyone look at the file, while he stayed down in Abby's lab watching her work and staring at the two names as if they held the secrets of the universe. There was a ding and Gibbs looked up expectantly.

"The blood found on the door is a match to Monique James. Just like you said it would be Gibbs." Abby stated proudly, hands on her hips and smiling.

"I've got one more favor for you Abs. One involving our little project."

"Name it Bossman." Abby grew serious now and bit her lip wondering what he knew that she didn't.

"Look for that virus in the blood sample."

"Your gut telling you something?"

"Yeah. It's saying that whatever Tony has, he's not the only one." Abby nodded, pulling out a pair of pictures from her desk drawer before putting the blood sample slide under her microscope.

"These are the photographs of the lipstick you wanted. I did one where the print was smudged and one where that spot had been completely missed." Gibbs looked at the marks and frowned some as Abby started fiddling with her microscope. The thing on the corner of Tony's mouth had looked more like a drip, and was a different shade of red entirely. Abby gasped then looked up at Gibbs. "She has the virus too!"

"CafPow! in your fridge Abs." Gibbs said walking out of the lab, taking the photographs with him. He was fairly certain he figured out what Tony was hiding, but he would need either a confession the first time around or to catch him in the act of taking blood to confirm it. Because without the hardcore proof, he doubted that Tony would tell him if he didn't want to.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs stated nodding his head in the direction of the elevator. Immediately Tony jumped up and followed him.

"On your six boss!" Gibbs noticed his agent was not questioning where they were going, even though he wanted to. Instead he settled for looking rather perplexed when Gibbs stopped the elevator.

"You know you can tell me anything Tony." Gibbs stated quietly, keeping his gaze.

"I know boss. We're like the dynamic duo, like Scooby Doo and Shaggy, like peanut butter and chocolate." Tony said, cutting the similes short at the sterner look from his Boss.

"Is there anything you want to share?" Gibbs saw Tony think it over, weighing options against consequences, before shaking his head.

"Not a thing Gibbs, why?" Tony's voice was confident, but Gibbs could see the worry in his eyes when the file folder was opened.

"Then why didn't you tell me that you were in the club with our dead Petty Officer last night?" Gibbs asked, and he could see the gears turning in Tony's head, as well as relief flashing, very briefly through his eyes.

"I was checking out the validity of what he had wanted to talk about. When he demanded to talk to me he was already pretty drunk boss, insisted someone was stalking him. Wanted me to call in a protective detail with no evidence. Got pissed off when I wouldn't and stormed off to the bar. That was at about eleven. I watched for a while and didn't see anything strange, left around twelve thirty or one. I was gonna tell you but we got called off on the case and it slipped my mind. Won't happen again."

"It better not DiNozzo." Gibbs stated, angry, delivering a hard slap to the back of Tony's head, causing the man to wince slightly even though he refused to rub the spot. Reaching over, Gibbs flicked the switch, sending the elevator back into motion.


	6. Maddie Tyler

Whether or not Tony would have believed that day in the elevator was not the low point of his week was irrelevant, because the high that came from catching Petty Officer Morrison’s killer was quickly snuffed out. The crushing blow came via the arrival of Maddie Tyler and her Marine stalker. From there, everything just fell apart in Tony’s world. If that caused him to take what others would consider crazy risks, it was only in order to pull things back under control.   
  
***  
  
After Gibbs had confronted him in the elevator, Tony was mentally freaking out. He excused himself to the bathroom after Gibbs started directing the team, making no move to include him, even handing over his ‘lead’ to Ziva.  
  
Thankful that the bathroom was empty, Tony turned the cold tap all the way and cupped some water in his hands surprised to find he was trembling slightly. “Get a hold of yourself Anthony.” He chided, splashing the water onto his face. “Gibbs doesn’t know.” He quickly checked the room again making sure Gibbs wasn’t in the room. He could just imagine the older man standing there, that calculating gaze settled on him.   
  
' _Doesn’t know what DiNozzo?_ ’ he could hear the voice, so real in his head. He shook himself dizzy trying to knock that image loose, a response fathering under the imagined azure orbs. ' _Know that you can’t stand the thought of not being the top agent in my book. Know that you want me to pull you close and make you scream._ ’ Tony could just picture Gibbs walking closer, stalking him like a lion hunts it’s prey, all smirks and dangerous eyes. He pictured Gibbs pressing him against the sink and ghosting lips across his neck, his jaw, his ear. Whispering ' _That you’re a vampire and thirsty for me?_ ’ before biting the shell of his ear hard drawing a shudder and gasp from him.   
  
Tony shook his head again and plunged it under the now icy water from the sink, slowly releasing the white knuckle grip he had on the edge of the porcelain and plastic, knowing that he had to keep himself under control, or else his job would be toast. Ami had mentioned a few years ago that sooner or later he’d start feeling the urge to settle down and that it’d be really hard to resist at first, but got easier. It was a sign of vampiric maturity, and always insured you’d have enough blood to survive in an emergency.   
  
Why in the hell were the survival instincts always the most damning to his career? Ami was bound to laugh when he told her, though if he were being honest, it was sort of funny. Turning off the water he let the frigid liquid drip off his hair and down his face as he made an attempt to force the goosebumps to subside, telling himself it was from the cold water.   
  
When he walked back into the squad room all of the team’s eyes, minus Gibbs, were on him. Gibbs was gone, which is probably the reason that Ziva and McGee stared so openly at him, as of he had sprouted an extra head. He grabbed a towel from under his desk and started drying his hair off. “Do you have something to say Probie?” Tony asked stalking over to the man’s desk and staring down at him menacingly.   
  
“Just was wondering what took so long, Gibbs was pretty…uh… mad…” the hesitation in McGee’s voice told him that Gibbs was more than mad, he was livid. Just what he needed. “And he told me to give you these so you could start making calls.”   
  
Great now he was being told by McGeek to do all of the McGruntwork. “Did he say what I was supposed to be looking for?”   
  
“He said to see if anyone had noticed anybody following Morrison or if anyone noticed him acting strangely.” Tony stalked back to his desk and started making the calls, glowering at his phone and then the list of names as he dialed, missing the looks of supreme understanding that Ziva and McGee swapped over his predicament.   
  
It took three hours for him to get a lead, and then Gibbs wouldn’t even let him track it down with the rest of them. A wave of irritation washed through him and he felt the need to just hit something. Hard. But he was at work and couldn’t, so he just let a breath out though his nose, and started punching in the next number on the list.   
  
Eventually after the third lead, Gibbs had a suspect, that Tony would bet was guilty. His name was Aleksandr Volkov and his dark looks were every bit as sinister and lupine as his surname would suggest. But he wasn’t a wolf. He was a vampire, of that Tony had no doubt. The way he stared through the mirrored glass, right at Tony, smirking while Gibbs was talking, as if saying ' _I could tear the throat out of your boss before you could rescue him. Whose territory is it now, bitch?_ ’   
  
Tony kept his eyes locked on Gibbs, every muscle taut, ready to spring forwards and crash through the glass if need be while suppressing a growl. The nerve of that dirtbag.  
  
Hours passed and finally they got a confession. With a yawn Volkov had admitted that he killed the Petty Officer, for noncompliance and going to a federal agent. If he had kept his mouth shut and done what he was told then neither of them would be in the positions they were in.   
  
Determining that he had been working alone, Gibbs hauled the guy off to be processed and thrown in jail. It was during his absence that a blonde girl came in looking for Gibbs. She was very pretty and looked nervous as hell, letting McGee take her to the lounge and sit with her while she waited. Gibbs had come back, stalwartly refusing to look at Tony, or even acknowledge his existence, until he had rambled off Maddie Tyler’s age instead of the reason she was there, which neither of them really knew. Then he was fixed with a glare so fierce that he took a step back swallowing nervously and caught totally off guard. He had figured that Gibbs was mad at him for forgetting to mention he had talked with Morrison, but there was no reason for him to be that mad… Unless he knew that Tony was hiding more things, but couldn’t confront him about it for some reason.   
  
God he hoped that it was just a combination of a bad day and Gibbs needing to get laid just as badly as Tony himself did.   
  
When the man came storming back into the room he was followed by Maddie, and they left together, Gibbs saying nothing more than 'Go home and get some rest. All of you.’ as he grabbed his things. Tony didn’t need to be told twice, and opted for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He could wind up waiting a long time, especially if Gibbs wanted to talk to the girl privately for a while.   
  
Watching Gibbs drive off while following the girl Tony walked to his car and got in, yawning with the sudden realization that it was way later than they usually got out. Driving home quickly he climbed the stairs up to his apartment and went straight to his bedroom, locking the front door behind him. As he walked he undid his shirt and shimmied out of his pants, leaving his clothes laying in the hallway without even making an attempt to toss his shirt and pants into the hamper as he passed his bathroom. Falling into bed, he was asleep nearly instantly.   
  
***  
 _  
'Good morning Tony.’ A voice rumbled in his ear, breath heavy and warm.  
  
'Morning Jethro.’ Tony mumbled, humming contentedly when a soft kiss was placed at his throat, the scratchy stubble from his boss’ unshaven cheek grazing against his jaw. It combined with the callused palm brushing down his chest, over a nipple, to elicit another hum, closer to a moan than the previous one. 'I could get used to this…’ He murmured, threading fingers through his lover’s hair, enjoying the softness of it.   
  
'Then maybe I’ll have to do this more often.’ Gibbs said with a soft smile, biting at his agent’s neck, bringing about another breathily soft moan. Both knew that Tony was as content to let Gibbs be in control as Gibbs was to be in control. After all it was no secret to anyone that Tony loved being pampered in the bedroom when he could.   
  
A moaned 'Yes’ came as both an agreement to the notion of being woken up like this and to the hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking lazily. He knew that Tony loved being woken up this way, but to help encourage him from dozing back off Gibbs lightly flicked his tongue over a dusky nipple, before teasing the bud with his teeth and feeling the cock jump in his hand, hardening more rapidly until he knew there was no chance of the man drifting off to sleep again. Gibbs smirked and treated the one nipple to such exquisite torment, nipping and licking, even suckling, until the hand that had been tangled in his hair tightened to a fist and tugged him in the direction of the now erect nub’s neglected twin. Complying, Gibbs began to treat the nipple to the same treatment as he had given the first, one hand stroking Tony’s shaft with firm but languid strokes, the other hand fondling his balls with skill that suggested practice bringing Tony to the edge of madness and keeping him dangling by a thread, precome beading at the slit on every stroke. Tony made quite the sight. His eyes were screwed shut and he had fallen silently breathless aside from the occasional harsh pant or keening whimper.   
  
'Open your eyes Tony._’ _Gibbs instructed softly, and Tony fought every natural instinct that said to keep his eyes closed as well as the ringing in his ears that did nothing to quell the dizziness that was brought on by every breath being a staccato event eternities apart. But for Gibbs he would do anything. His eyes opened and hazel met blue, unable to be broken apart by anything short of complete and spontaneous world destruction._  
  
Anthony DiNozzo awoke from what was possibly the best dream of his life, with the worst boner of his life, by his cell phone ringing. Yelling frustratedly into the spare pillow he kept in his bed, he picked up his cell phone and stomped, albeit gingerly, into his bathroom, dropping his boxers and turning on the shower before he answered the phone.   
  
“What?” He snapped, all but snarling into the phone.   
  
“Took you long enough DiNozzo. Get your ass in here. Maddie Tyler’s been kidnapped.” Gibbs’ snarl was equally fierce, if not more so and it was a complete one eighty from the tender tones of his dream. The line went dead and in a bout of frustration the offending device was chucked into the hamper as Tony got into the steaming shower.  
  
Almost immediately his hand was at his aching length almost surprised at how hard he was from such a simple dream about his boss. Such a simply hot dream that is. He stroked the shaft similarly to how Dream-Gibbs had, bracing himself against the wall of the shower as he pretended that his hand was larger, warmer and a bit rougher. It wasn’t long before he was shouting 'Jethro!’ and shooting translucent and slightly iridescent strands of semen against the wall of the shower, letting it be washed away almost immediately as he recovered, catching his breath and hating the way his lungs still ached from any kind of physical activity.   
  
As soon as he recovered enough he set to washing up, before hearing his phone ring again. Ignoring it, he finished his shower, and stepped put, wrapping a towel around his waist before setting at shaving, brushing his teeth and styling his hair. He then walked out of his bathroom and gathered his discarded clothes from the night before, returning to the bathroom and added the boxers from this morning to the pile in his arms before swapping them for the phone in his hamper, as he went across the hall to get dressed.   
  
By the time Tony showed up for work Gibbs was still furious that he hadn’t answered every single call and the bullpen was a-flutter with activity, McGee, Ziva and Gibbs all trying to locate Maddie Tyler.   
  
“What do I need to be doing to help?” Tony asked, sitting down at his desk and firing up the computer.   
  
“Your damned job!” Gibbs’ reply was immediate and unhelpful so Tony turned to McGee instead.  
  
“I’m running checks on Haas’ cell phone, you can cross reference with places that he used to like to hang out at.” Tony nodded and started to work immediately. Gibbs seemed to get a lead before any of them, and headed off without sharing what it was, ordering them all to stay. Tony waited all of three seconds before telling McGee to pull up whatever it was that Gibbs has seen. The younger agent had tried to argue, but a well placed growl had put McGee scampering, fearing the demon that lurked within DiNozzo to produce such a dangerous rumble from the normally affable field agent. As soon as they found it Tony printed a copy for himself and headed towards the stairs. “Tony where are you going?” McGee called after him, and Tony answered without turning or breaking stride.  
  
“Watching my partner’s six.”  
  
***  
  
Tony caught up with Gibbs just in time to see the car go careening off the pier. Without thinking he got out of his car and dialed 911 as he ran to the edge, giving their location and a brief synopsis of the incident in one breath before diving gracefully into the water after them, cell phone dropping somewhere into the depths as he dove. Propelling himself towards the car he found that both doors were jammed and so he had no choice but to go through the windshield.  
  
Balling his hand into a fist he summoned every bit of vampiric speed and power he could and rammed his fist into the windshield, shattering it and slicing his arm and hand to ribbons in the process. The pain from the cuts made him accidentally inhale and swallow some of the water, but he ignored the burning in his lungs as he continued to work.  
  
He didn’t care what happened to him at that point in time, even though the wounds grew as he pulled the glass apart so a body could fit through without being harmed. He grabbed Maddie first, dragging her out and onto the pier at Gibbs’ request. Coughing once before taking as deep a breath as he could manage, Tony flipped around in the water diving back down to get his boss. Icy fear gripped him when he saw that the man had seemingly dropped unconscious in the twenty or thirty seconds he had spent pulling Maddie to the surface. He swam through the hole he had made, kicking the steering wheel to get it to unlock before grabbing Gibbs and hauling him back onto the pier as well.   
  
Climbing up himself, Tony immediately checked for pulses in them both before he started CPR on his boss. He pleaded he whole time he was working, to not have to kiss him, (because he doubted he could stop,) that he’d take a breath and cough out the water he had inhaled. After each set he switched between the two bodies, but she was the first to start coughing, so he focused completely on Jethro, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. He could not, no, would not lose another teammate. Especially not one that he cared so deeply for. Tony could hear sirens in the distance, but knew they weren’t going to get here in time Tony leaned in to bite, deciding to try and turn him then pray for the best when he felt a pulse flutter under his lips as he sought the best spot to plant his mark. Encouraged to doing things the human way, he went for whispering in the man’s ear instead. It took Tony giving two more rescue breaths in order to elicit a positive response from Gibbs. As if by a miracle, Gibbs began to cough.   
  
Time resumed its normal flow and he saw Gibbs open his eyes and smile, reaching out and grasping the young woman’s hand. The gesture’s beginning had him beaming, thinking he would finally get a pat on the head for doing some good, but when Gibbs reached for Maddie his stomach twisted painfully and he moved to the end of the pier, beginning to cough and spit out all of the brackish water he had inhaled and swallowed. The paramedics arrived, McGee, Ziva and Ducky hot on their heels.  
  
He hadn’t realized that anyone had come until the Medical Examiner knelt beside him, opening the kit he had brought and beginning to tend to Tony’s injured arm, before checking his lungs and wrapping a warm blanket around him. He hadn’t realized he was shivering until then.   
  
“You did good my boy.” Dr. Mallard stated with a soft pat on the shoulder. Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, knowing that the one person who had a real opinion in this case was too busy trying to find something of his lost daughter in this girl. Tony didn’t blame him though, he just thought it would be nice to see a fraction of the favor Abby got every once in a while. Was that really too much to ask?  
  
“Gibbs doesn’t think so. I’m willing to bet I don’t even get one of those stupid 'good job’ nods that he gives to McGee. I’m the senior agent, I should get more recognition, they should look up to me, and instead…” he knew he sounded petulant, but it stung to constantly get overlooked because Gibbs thought since he was the senior field agent he didn’t need recognition for doing his job.  
  
“Jethro thinks very highly of you Anthony, he’s just had a lot on his mind that he doesn’t know how to deal with.”  
  
“Like what Ducky? Gibbs can handle anything, he’s Gibbs.” He knew it sounded like something Abby would say, putting so much blind faith in the man they both worked for. But It was one of the things they had in common, an unwavering belief that Gibbs could and would be able to do and survive anything.  
  
“Like falling in love.” Tony snorted at that but found himself feeling sick, resisting the urge to lean over and gag.  
  
“Gibbs is in love with her?” Tony looked at where the girl had been laid out on the pier. “But she’s not even a redhead.”   
  
“Jethro is capable of change. Whether people believe it or not.” Ducky looked around and shivered slightly in the cold. “But now is not the time to discuss this. Let’s get you home.” Ducky motioned to McGee and Ziva who hauled the dizzy and numb man up, before putting him in the warm car, Ducky following. As he was checking with the paramedics he heard Tony insisting that since there was no more danger, McGee should drive. After being in the back seat for the ride to the pier, Ducky was inclined to agree with his decision.


	7. What have I done?

The next few weeks passed without much chaos, at least as far as everyone else knew. Gibbs stayed somewhat sour and stared at Tony surreptitiously whenever he could. But since Tony was watching Gibbs surreptitiously as well he noticed. But he wasn't sure if Gibbs noticed him noticing.

Tony however had been trying to work his way back into his boss' good graces. He would leave with the team, and come back an hour later, after a quick bite to eat, and work through the night. He'd leave an hour before the rest of the team was due to arrive, grabbing another bite or a half an hour power nap before sauntering in five minutes late or less as usual. It was counter productive to his goal, but if people, or rather, if Gibbs noticed him being the first one there, them he'd think to have Abby or McGee check the security tapes. Then everyone would know he wasn't sleeping and Gibbs would be even more mad.

If anyone was suspicious about how he was alternately silent as a grave or talking up a storm nobody said anything. The only out of the ordinary thing was that Ducky called Gibbs down while they were working on cold cases. Tony dismissed it as the older man wanting company other than Palmer.

"You wanted to see me Duck?" Gibbs asked, leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest.

"Yes, Jethro, it's rather important so thank you for making it down here as quickly as you did. Please close the door and sit down." Gibbs nodded, following the Doctor's instructions, sinking into the offered chair, watching as a cup of tea was stirred and then sipped. "I know coffee is more your style, but may I get you a cup of tea?"

"No thanks Duck, just tell me what this is about."

"Alright then. I had noticed in the days preceding the Maddie Tyler incident, and continuing afterward, you have been unusually strict on our dear Anthony. I wish to know why."

"Is that what all this is about? You thinking I'm being too strict on DiNozzo? Well if that's all you have to say then save your breath. I have my reasons."

"Would you at least tell me what those reasons are?"

"You're not going to let me go without answering are you Ducky?" the old man chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"Heavens Jethro, you may not be as young as you used to be, but neither am I. I hardly doubt I could stop you if you sincerely wished to leave. I am just asking as a friend, for you to tell me what your reasons are before I show you the things that have come to our notice."

"'Our' Duck?" Gibbs asked raising an eyebrow.

"All in good time Jethro, all in good time. Please enlighten me first."

"Well Doctor Mallard." Gibbs began, settling further back in his chair and taking a deep breath. "DiNozzo's been slacking for weeks. Not only being unreachable for stretches of time, but withholding information, disobeying orders, leaving early and coming in late. And now I've been catching him forgetting things and falling asleep at his desk."

"He's also been strangely silent or overly talkative hasn't he?"

"Yes, but what does that have anything to do with it?"

"Well I believe, and have proof, that Anthony is overworking himself to try and please you, because you hold him to a higher standard than the other agents on the team. A standard that he believes he is not meeting. For example that day on the pier..."

"That day he disobeyed orders." Gibbs was scowling now, adjusting his folded arms, gripping them more tightly. He could sense where Ducky was going with this and he didn't like it one bit.

"And if he hadn't you and young Miss Tyler would be dead. But that is not the point of this. We arrived after the paramedics, but not by much. The way we had arrived, I was able to watch that little exchange between you and Miss Tyler rather clearly. When Tony removed himself from the situation he looked like you had just shot his dog. His arm was bleeding rather badly and he was coughing up that vile water, shaking so hard I thought he would fall in."

"Which is why I told him to never do something like that again, and put him on desk work so he could recover." And gave him a healthy head slap for good measure.

"But you never praised him for a job well done?" Gibbs sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I didn't think he needed it."

"Well I'd like you to think about that again, after you watch this. Abigail?" From a connecting room, Abby walked in, laptop in hand.

"Hi Gibbs..." The greeting was sheepish, and Gibbs knew that he wouldn't like what she had to say. "I want to start by explaining. This little inquest was kind of my doing. I would come in and find files from Tony on my desk. Ones that he didn't hand me before he left, with you and the rest of the team. So I did some checking. I found this on the security feed. Every night since after the incident where you almost drowned. Which was not cool Gibbs. What would we have done if we lost you?" Abby paused, shaking her head. "But that's not what we're here about. We're here about Tony." She turned the laptop towards him, before standing at his shoulder. "And I can tell you what he's saying."

She pressed play on the laptop, and Tony was seen walking in with his head down, the picture of exhaustion. The time stamp said it was about an hour after they had left. He sat at his desk and pulled a file out, staring at it with his head propped up by his hands. He sat there like that for a good five minutes, not moving, just staring through the closed file. It was almost as if the tape had stopped before Tony reached up and smacked himself in the back of the head, by the way he winced it looked to be harder than necessary.

"Get a hold of yourself DiNozzo!" Abby narrated, trying to sound like a gruff version of Tony. "You'll never find your way back to being the best agent by slacking off like this." She watched the screen for a moment, letting Gibbs see the the lengths that Tony was going to in order to win back his favor. "he spends most of the night either pretending he's you yelling at him more, to keep himself awake, or he's growling to himself."

"I've seen enough." Gibbs said reaching out and tapping keys on the keyboard until the feed stopped. No wonder Tony was falling apart so spectacularly. God what had he done?

"There is one other matter that requires your notice before you go and confront the boy." Ducky stated, setting his cup down. "I am aware of how much you care for Anthony. You will need to tread lightly with him while he's this exhausted. Or you could risk losing him."

"He's not going to quit on us Duck." Gibbs stated matter of factly.

"That is not what I mean and you know it Jethro."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said, standing and heading out of the Medical Examiner's office. He wasn't ready to admit to the very real possibility of falling apart if Tony ever got hurt or killed, and now he was flooded with guilt for not realizing what he had done. All he could hope for was that Tony would forgive him for being a royal bastard.

"Abigail, I do believe that we should be adding 'stamina' to the list of Anthony's physical symptoms." Ducky stated looking at the laptop screen before focusing on Gibbs retreating form.

Tony was nearing the end of his rope. A person could only drink red bull and avoid sleep for so long before they crashed. Vampires could do it longer but they weren't indestructible. Eventually sleep would be needed, no matter where they were. Two weeks was about Tony's limit, though he was sure if Gibbs was a vampire then he'd be able to do over a month easy. But he wasn't Gibbs.

As Gibbs walked into the bullpen he looked at McGee and Ziva, who chorused 'Hi Gibbs' causing Tony to mumble something about not falling for it again, not moving from what looked to be a precariously balanced position. If he startled Tony he could seriously hurt himself. Motioning for the other agents to silently go for a walk he waited for them to comply before crouching by Tony's side, placing one hand on the wheeling office chair before removing the file from the young man's lap.

"Up and at 'em DiNozzo." Gibbs said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes - a habit that he had caught himself picking up from the younger man - when Tony jerked in a way that would have sent his chair rolling back and the files skittering off his lap.

"I am up boss!" He stated, unable to fight a yawn. "What do we got? Another murderer? A kidnapper?"

"Just you goin' home DiNozzo. I know how little sleep you've been getting." Gibbs didn't sound angry yet Tony still flinched when Gibbs picked his hand off of his shoulder to grab at his upper arm instead, guiding him to his feet.

"I haven't been coming in nights, I've been spending them with Veronica."

"The game's up DiNozzo, I'm taking you home." He guided the field agent into the elevator and pressed the button to take them to the garage. They made it most of the way there before something in Tony snapped alive and he reached off, hitting the switch to stop the elevator.

"I don't get it Gibbs! I work my ass off to prove that I'm the best on the team, aside from you, and I get chewed out. I save your ass and I get a head slap and a lecture about defying orders! I say nothing about how bad a match she is for you because hell I could be wrong and after everything you deserve some happiness. But you're still a the worst bastard I've met, because you give the rest of the team nods and good jobs and CafPow! for things that every Probie should know and do! So now why are you concerned all of a sudden?"

"I didn't realize the lengths you were going to to impress me. Didn't realize you needed my praise for doing your job a hell of a lot better than anyone else since you wouldn't let us forget." He paused a moment letting Tony's words sink in. "Why the hell is it you want to go so far to impress me? Angling for your own team?"

"No. That's not it at all. It's just... You need to trust that I've got your six no matter what. And..." Here he trailed off, picking at the nail on his middle finger with his thumb, staring at the railing in the elevator. Gibbs sighed.

"Spit it out DiNozzo." he instructed, and there was another moment of hesitation before Tony reached out like a flash and flipped the elevator switch with one hand while he pulled Gibbs to him with the other. He crushed their lips together in a nearly desperate kiss, trying to channel all of the emotions he felt into that one instant. Even though it was just lips, when the elevator doors dinged open Tony found his head spinning with only one thought of _'oh god what have I done?'_ floating around in his head.

Doing the first thing that he could think of he suddenly shoved his stunned boss back, whirling around and hitting whatever button he could, sliding out of the elevator as the doors closed. The last thing he heard as he took off at a full out run was Gibbs, shouting for him to get back there. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't will himself to go back. He just had to keep going until he got somewhere Gibbs would never think to look.

 


	8. Hide and seek

Anthony DiNozzo wasn't thinking about where he was running to, just that he had to keep running no matter what, even if the guards at the entrance to the Navy Yard were telling him that he was still needed up at NCIS. His objective was simple: get far enough away from Gibbs that the older man would have a chance to cool down. Tony knew he was in for it when he was caught, but he hoped that it wouldn't cost him his place on the team.

 

The fear fueled his run, producing adrenaline that carried him farther than he would have thought, even through the constricting in his chest and nausea turning his stomach. On his way through the park he stumbled, tumbling to the ground. Barely pausing to take a breath, Tony pushed himself up, taking off at a stumbling run again.

 

He ran until his head was spinning, but would have kept going, except for the fact that he ran into a very solid chest. Arms snaked around him as he stumbled back, and he looked up at the owner half expecting it to be Gibbs. Instead he found a different, yet equally familiar face. Not the tallest on staff, but still topping out at six four, the more stoic of the bouncers, Kay, was staring down at him. Feeling completely safe, the energy rushed out of him like a popped balloon. He crumpled some, trusting the other man to support his weight and not let him go.

 

"Tell Ami I need a room..." He breathed, feeling his world shift as he blacked out. The last thought he had was a hope that Kay was going to take him inside, and not leave him passed out on the street like some lush.

 

***

 

Gibbs stood in the elevator watching Tony leave, trying to wrap his head around the situation. It wasn't until the doors were almost closed that he had the sense to try and stop the other man from running off.

"DiNozzo! Get back here!" He reached for the button to open the doors again, but was a second too late. Pressing the button for the first level he could get off on, he grabbed his phone and dialed McGee.

 

"Hey Boss, do we have-" Gibbs cut him off with a frustrated snap, leveling a glare at the wall.

 

"Call all of the gates, tell them to not let DiNozzo leave and to send his ass back here. Have Ziva help you. Then track his phone." Without waiting for the inevitable questions he slammed his phone shut, getting out when the elevator dinged open, heading for the stairs that would take him back to his car.

When he got in his car he called McGee again. "Status report." He ordered throwing his car into gear and making his way out of the parking structure.

 

"North Gate just reported back that he blew right through the checkpoint like someone was chasing him as they were getting the call. They hadn't thought to stop him because they knew he was one of us and thought it was important. When they tried to call him back he seemed to get more freaked out. Is he okay boss?"

 

Gibbs took a slow breath, trying to quash the guilty feeling rising in his stomach. "He's okay." Gibbs stated, not quite sure if he believed it, but sure as hell going to try to. "Where is he now?"

 

"Headed he's heading east, towards the park."

 

"Keep an eye on him." Gibbs flicked the phone onto speaker, having to take a longer route, but still wondering how Tony had gotten so far so fast while exhausted.

 

"He's stopped, almost smack dab in the middle of the park."

 

"Lead me in." Gibbs followed the directions until McGee couldn't get any more specific. "Good work Tim. You can stop tracking us now and get back on the cold cases." Gibbs hung up without waiting to be asked if he was okay, because truthfully he didn't know. He'd feel much better when he knew Tony was alright. Quickly he dialed Tony's number looking around to try and pinpoint him. Tony's ringtone sounded and Gibbs whirled around, following it next to some bushes.

 

"Damn. Where did you go DiNozzo?" He murmured to himself, crouching near where he found the phone to hopefully get a direction from any flattened grass. Seeing none he stood again and looked at the phone, trying to deduce where the agent could have gone. He knew that Tony was panicked and drained, so he'd want to go somewhere he felt safe, where no questions would be asked.

 

Since his apartment was out of the question - under normal circumstances it'd be the first place he looked - Gibbs decided to try that one club Tony was a VIP at. He turned and jogged back to his car, driving as if someone's life depended on it. He doubted any serious harm would have come to Tony in the short time they had been separated, but Gibbs just wanted to make things right, whatever right was.

 

Rule twelve was a rule for a reason. His relationship with Jenny while she was still an agent had blown up in his face. He wanted to believe anything with Tony would be different. Hell, it already was, but once bitten and twice shy as they say.

 

It was fairly early in club standards, but the two bouncers were set up in the doorway and the thrumming of the bass rhythm from the speakers indicated it was indeed open as a club. He stormed up to the pair and looked at the smaller one, he thought he recalled her name being Monique, staring her down.

 

"Is my agent in there?" He asked, watching her face carefully.

 

She shrugged, staring back at him, impassive. "Why should I know where your agent is? Isn't that your job?" Gibbs scowled.

 

"Let me talk to your boss."

 

"She's busy."

 

"Interrupt her."

 

"No."

 

Gibbs was fed up now. He snatched the walkie talkie off her belt and activated it, even as he was knocked to the ground by the little spitfire he had been arguing with. "This is Agent Gibbs, I need to speak to Ami Hawthorne." There was a few moments of silence as the girl, deceptively strong for her size, snatched the radio back, reaffixing it to her belt before standing up.

 

When the device crackled to life a minute later the voice on the other end was tense. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Do come in."

 

Nodding to both bouncers he passed them, Gibbs entered the building, making a mental note to have Abby add speed and strength to the list. The girl had knocked him flat even though she was no more than five foot six and a hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet. He had no doubt she could do much worse, under different circumstances. Also, how had Tony gotten this far in such a short time? Enhanced speed had to be the culprit as taxis at this time of day were few and far between.

 

There was definitely something hinky about all of this, as the forensic scientist would say. As early as it was, the sound coming from the club hit him like a wall when he entered. It wasn't loud yet, it was just a persistent bass that couldn't be healthy in large doses. Ami was standing near the bar, staring at him in a way that reminded him of how Shannon would when he messed up big time. He couldn't help but swallow apprehensively before striding forward to meet her.

 

"Miss Hawthorne." He stated diplomatically, nodding to her once they were close enough to be heard. She said nothing, only motioned for him to follow her, before walking away. Ami led him towards the back store room where the stairs to the upper level were.

 

Once they were both inside she spun around, hair fanning out behind her before gracefully settling again, a low snarl on her lips. "What in the hell did you do Agent Gibbs? That poor boy was a wreck when he came to us, so you better have a good explanation."

 

"I don't owe you any explanation other than there was a misunderstanding. If DiNozzo wants you to know more, he'll tell you. Now do I have to tear this place apart looking for him or are you gonna take me to him?" He watched her hesitate, wondering if his bluff was really a bluff, before nodding.

 

"Fine. I'll take you to him, but if you hurt him, so help you God, I will slap you so hard your great great great grandparents will feel it." Gibbs bit back a smile. It wasn't that he doubted her, he knew that she was serious, and that she cared a great deal for Tony. In a different life, she probably would have been good friends with Shannon. But in a different life he wouldn't be chasing his senior agent because the man was the only one who could make him feel an ounce of peace. Gibbs was determined to figure out what it was about the man that was so alluring, and he knew he would, even if it was the last thing he did.

 

Ami opened up the door to her room, and Gibbs could see someone curled up and asleep in the bed. "He was in bad shape, don't disturb him." Gibbs nodded as he moved around her to crouch by the bed. Trusting him to follow her directions, and knowing from Tony's description, that being there wouldn't change his mind if he wanted to disobey them, she turned and closed the door, leaving them so she could get back to work.

 

After the door shut, Gibbs reached out and ran his fingers through the sleeping agent's hair, before tracing down his jaw with a thumb. How had he not realized all of this was going on? If he looked so gaunt in his sleep how was it possible that he had overlooked it while Tony was awake? "God DiNozzo, I'm sorry." He breathed, knowing he was breaking yet another one of his rules, but somehow finding he didn't care. Gibbs expected Tony to sit up and tell him it was alright and that the worrying him had just been a ploy to make him realize that his actions had consequences.

 

But Tony didn't move.

 

Gibbs sat there, watching him for a few more minutes, deciding that the young man would get a much more restful sleep at home, where the thrum of the music from downstairs didn't resonate through the floor. Gently he untangled Tony from the blankets that were over him - apparently he was a snuggler - before picking up the man's shoes, setting them on the bed, arranging the laces in a way that he could easily hook them over his fingers. In one easy movement, Gibbs picked Tony up, pulling him close. Now Tony moved, but it was only to snuggle into his chest. That was something, it meant instinctively Tony still trusted him. Thank God for small miracles. Grabbing the shoes, Gibbs left the small room, closing the door with his foot.

 

Taking the back way out, Gibbs secured Tony in the passenger seat, before driving back to his house. He brought Tony into the master bedroom and laid him beneath the blanket, giving him the spare pillow to clutch. Straightening back up, he rolled his sore shoulder, before heading downstairs for a glass of bourbon and to sand his boat. He needed to think, and that was the best way to do it.

 

***

 

Almost fourteen hours from the point that he passed out in Kay's arms, Tony awoke slowly, as if sleep had become a pit of molasses and he was naught but a poor fly that wanted a taste.

 

The first thing that he was aware of was that the pillow he was clutching didn't smell like strawberries and lavender, with just a hint of vanilla. Instead it was fresh sawdust with an underlying forest smell, carrying subtle coffee and soap tones throughout. It was so familiar, but with how cloudy Tony's mind still was he couldn't place it. Determining that since he felt so safe, figuring out where he was wasn't a big deal. He snuggled into the warm mass that his arms were wrapped around, heaving a half sigh, half yawn. He was just drifting off again when the stray thought of how nice sleeping with Gibbs was crossed his mind, jolting him completely awake. Blinking against the strong sunlight coming through the eastern window, Tony peered around the room, taking in the details. First, Gibbs was not in the room, and a sigh of relief escaped the agent's lips. As tempting as the idea of waking up next to Gibbs was, after everything that had happened in the last month, it would have been too much to bear. Still, he felt the spot next to him, relieved that it was cool to the touch. He couldn't hear the shower in the adjoining master bathroom running either, so he closed his eyes again, straining to hear as much as he could from the rest of the house.

 

Hearing nothing immediate Tony crept to the bedroom door and opened it just a crack, long enough to press his nose through and inhale. No fresh coffee. Gibbs was either gone or asleep. He wasn't sure which one he preferred.

 

Opening the door just wide enough to creep through, Tony paused at the top of the stairs, looking down into the living room. There was Gibbs, asleep on the couch, with a pillow and blanket. Tony had to walk right by him to get out the front door.

 

Damn.

 

Taking a fortifying breath, he crept down the stairs, past the couch, and to the door. He grabbed his shoes off the mat, and opened the door so slowly he thought it wasn't going to open at all.

"

DiNozzo!" Gibbs' sharp voice cut through the previously silent air, causing Tony to jump, dropping his shoes. He whirled around to face Gibbs, seeing him laying there, completely awake.

 

"Oh hey boss... I was just..." Here he paused, searching for the right adjective or verb, or perhaps even both. Gibbs sat up, continuing to watch him.

 

"Leaving?" The man supplied, stretching and rubbing his shoulder. A pang of sympathetic guilt ran through Tony, having heard about the old injury, and knowing it must have been murder sleeping on a couch. He came up with two highly plausible reasons as to why Gibbs would rather sleep on the couch instead of in a bed. The first was the guest bedroom had been Kelly's and it still hurt to go into, much less sleep in. The second was because he knew Tony would try something like this.

 

"That's...one way of putting it." He murmured, waiting for the expected _'well go on then'_. Or a nod, or something to make the guilt ease. Instead he watched as Gibbs stood, wearing nothing but sweatpants, and started folding the blanket, leaving Tony frozen as he watched the muscles in the older man's back move. After folding the blanket, Gibbs came and shut the door, guiding Tony to the couch by the shoulder. Without saying a word, he pushed the younger man down onto the couch, forcing him to sit, before walking to the kitchen to make some coffee. Tony stayed sitting, clutching his shoes on his lap, as he waited for Gibbs to come back. Obviously there was a big decision to be made, which would end with Gibbs quoting rule twelve and Tony being given a death sentence as Agent Afloat.

 

But at the moment, all Tony could do was wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because I had to stretch out the cliffie a biiiiit longer


	9. Rules and Regulations

Tony waited, and soon the aroma of fresh coffee percolating filled the house, or at least, to his heightened senses it did. He had forgotten how bright the living room could get from the bay window behind where Gibbs had vetoed putting the television when he was staying there, and was thankful he wasn't particularly photosensitive like some vampires were. Sunlight had never made them burst into flames like old myths proclaimed, nor did they sparkle like modern stories said. Except for Nis, but that was because the man used more glitter than a stripper in order to attract the trashiest dates imaginable, before thinking it was necessary to give him dating advice. It was laughable really.

 

Pulling away from that tangent, Tony was thankful that he wasn't as photosensitive as Ami. The poor girl couldn't go out in strong sunlight for more than a few minutes without burning. In her human life she had been the youngest girl on an Irish farm and had been perpetually sunburned at sixteen, and sick of being seen as nothing but breeding stock and free labor. So she had run off and met a man that indulged her curiosity. The story didn't end well, but as sad as she was sometimes, her help had been invaluable to Tony over the years.

 

He heard Gibbs pouring the first cup of coffee and knew from experience that he'd stand there and drink it before pouring himself another and coming out to join him. He knew Gibbs knew that he preferred not to drink the pitch black brew, and so he wasn't surprised when Gibbs came back without a mug for him. What did surprise him was the dark bruise on his side. How that had gone without his notice when he had been watching Gibbs? ' _Because you weren't looking at his side. You were looking at his ass, or how he moved._ ' His mind supplied traitorously, causing him to nearly flush, wondering if Gibbs had caught him staring.

 

Gibbs sat in one of the armchairs that flanked the couch, watching Tony look around nervously. The young man swallowed, before looking up at Gibbs with a worried expression.

 

"I know, rule twelve is a rule for a reason and I busted that wide open, but please, please don't kick me off the team and put me as an agent afloat!" Tony blurted just as Gibbs opened his mouth to speak. Gibbs raised his coffee mug to his lips, taking a drink to cover the smirk. It was really amusing to think of his agent on a boat somewhere, but it was still accompanied by a small pang of hurt. How could Tony think that he'd be removed just for wanting to be with him?

 

' _Because,_ ' his mind offered unhelpfully, ' _when you brought Kate on, you told her that if she slept with a co-worker you'd have her fired._ ' The intent of that had been to keep her away from Tony and he was almost sure it worked. Whatever Tony and Kate had shared they certainly hadn't gone public, so Gibbs could only hope that it was just speculation.

 

Tony was now rambling about some movie where office romances went awry, trying to assure him that nothing of the sort would happen. Gibbs shook his head slightly, wondering where the man got all of this nervous energy after wearing himself out so badly the past few weeks.

 

"DiNozzo." Although quiet, the tone was still authoritative enough for Tony to shut his mouth with an audible click in the middle of his sentence. "First, I am not pushing you off the team. Secondly, putting agents into other positions is not my job, it's the Director's. Although a superior could make recommendations, I won't be."

 

He could see the questions forming in Tony's mind and Gibbs cut him off with a shake of the head when he opened his mouth to voice them. Again, the agent's mouth shut. They lapsed into silence as Gibbs formulated how he was going to explain this. "However, you shouldn't have run Tony. I wasn't mad." He watched as a full range of emotions came over his senior agent's face. First shock, presumably at the use of his first name. Then confusion as he processed what not being mad meant, before finally a wary sort of confusion.

 

Tony stood again, letting the shoes drop to the floor, and walked closer, hesitating when Gibbs narrowed his eyes slightly. Never breaking eye contact, Tony leaned down and pressed their lips together again, but softer this time. There was no urgency, no fear, panic, or sleep deprivation to cloud his judgment. Just the soft press of lips moving against lips, and the elation that filled him when one of those deliciously warm, calloused hands cupped his cheek and he felt Gibbs respond. They didn't take it past just the sweetest and simplest of kisses, but when Tony pulled back to sit on the edge of the couch again, he was completely and utterly breathless. The kiss itself had seemed like a time paradox to Tony, feeling like it had stretched over an eternity and a second all at once.

 

Gibbs stayed quiet for a few seconds, collecting himself, before looking Tony in the eyes again. Both men noticed that the pupils of the other were dilated, and that assuaged a lot of Tony's fear for the moment. "If we continue this, there will be some rules."

 

"I can honestly say I didn't expect anything involving you to come without rules Gibbs." Tony said with a slight chuckle. "Lay em on me."

 

"Rule one: This does not follow us into work. If our enemies find out they will not hesitate to use you against me or vice versa." He paused here, to let Tony issue any complaints, before continuing when it was clear he understood. "Rule Two: I do not share. There will be nobody else."

 

"That goes for you too Gibbs, no more redheads, or Maddie Tyler."

 

"What does she have to do with anything?"

 

"Ducky said you were...oh..." Tony fell silent when he realized what the Medical Examiner's words on the pier had truly meant.

 

"Out with it DiNozzo." Gibbs instructed, frowning when Tony shook his head.

 

"It's nothing, I just had misinterpreted something. No sharing, go on."

 

Giving him a wary look, Gibbs nodded some. "Three: We do this right. Four: we take it slow." he paused here again, knowing that if Tony were to protest now would be the time. The agent looked like he was going to open his mouth, but surprisingly enough he kept quiet. Gibbs wondered if he had something bigger he wanted to use his veto on. "Five: No big secrets." And there it was, that scared rabbit look DiNozzo got when he was hiding something important. He struggled with himself for a moment, debating whether or not to tell, or how much to tell.

 

"Boss I'll admit I have a huge secret, the biggest, and I've never told anyone. I want to tell you, trust me I do, but I can't right now. It's nothing dangerous to me or anyone else. I mean it's not a Bruce Banner or Peter Parker size secret, but it's up there. I just don't want to lose you and this is so weird it might happen, I just, I want to be sure that we're going to stay an us before I tell you, of course if something big comes up that you need to know for, I'll tell, but... Please Gibbs, just give it time?"

 

Gibbs nodded slightly, impressed that Tony had actually told him he was hiding something big. Setting a hand on the agent's head, he ran his fingers through the man's hair to calm him down. Observation had taught him that Tony was a very tactile person, and at the moment he just wanted to stop his boyfriend (maybe? Or we're they still something else?) from bolting due to nerves. He watched Tony relax slowly, eyes eventually closing as just the slightest tilt of his head applied pressure to Gibbs' hand, encouraging him to stay where he was.

 

Tony wanted to stay there forever, but knew he couldn't. Sure enough, Gibbs' work phone rang, but he was able to answer without removing the hand threaded through his hair. But Tony could tell by the tone of voice, that not only did they have a case, but the gentleness that Gibbs had been showing (yeah he was normally a bastard, but it was no surprise the man had been married several times if a person could look past it) was going to be gone. Sure enough, as soon as Gibbs called McGee and Ziva, the hand was gone and his hardass boss was back, dashing up the stairs to get ready for the day. Tony yawned and stretched, before pulling on his shoes, thankful that there was one crisis that got averted, even if he was starting to suspect Gibbs was suspicious.

 

There was no way he couldn't be. After all he was nearly certain Gibbs had figured out that wasn't lipstick by now. But Gibbs was content to not bring it up more than the pointed look when he had made Rule Five. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Gibbs come back down, waiting for him by the door. At least until a sharp whistle broke him out of his thoughts. He stood and grinned at Gibbs, finding himself unable to wipe the dorky look off of his face until they were in the car.

In fact it was only noticing that Gibbs had shifted a little to the left so the clip of the seat belt wasn't pressing his side that made Tony remember about the bruise. "Who was it boss?" He asked after a minute, eyes growing serious as he looked up to watch the older man's face.

 

"A Staff Sargent on leave."

 

"Not our dead guy. The one that left that nasty bruise on your side." Gibbs looked at him as they stopped at a light.

 

"The bouncer. James." Tony winced at that. As much as it sucked being in a fight with Kay, he was unrefined, a brawler, he telegraphed his moves when you knew what to look for. Monique had spent years taking fighting classes for fun. And she practiced on her boyfriend every chance she got. Tony wanted to say that two out of every three arrests on her record were for domestic violence, but the guy, face a mess, came in and made them drop the charges. He had been working a case with Matt in Boston, on loan from Baltimore, when one such occurrence had happened. Tony admitted that their relationship looked like some low scale S&M lifestyle, not that he knew much about those to start with. She kept Derik on a short leash, and he had been publicly bitten on the jaw or shoved into some corner whenever anyone looked too closely at him. Tony had noticed that even though he had whined about it some, he still grinned at her and had nestled closer.

 

Whatever made them happy.

 

That didn't make Tony any less furious at the fact they she had left a mark on something that he had always, subconsciously, thought of as his. Just like Kate, Abby, Ziva and McGee were his. "I'll talk with her." He grumbled, knowing that the talking would probably devolve into fighting, because of the volatility of her hair trigger temper and his smart assery.

 

He noticed Gibbs shaking his head, but ignored it. If it was anyone else, Gibbs would have shot them in an instant, and Tony didn't see what put his boss' well being below the rest of the team's. Probably that same drive that was present in Tony. The one that got him shot at too many times, the one that got him infected with the plague, the one that got him nearly blown to pieces and stabbed.

 

His musings were cut off as they pulled into the parking garage and parked next to Tony's car. He got out and popped his trunk, quickly unbuttoning the rumpled shirt from the night before, and pulling out his 'emergency' shirt and a small backpack filled with toiletries before pulling on the shirt and shutting the trunk, buttoning it as he walked, Gibbs walking two paces behind him, almost as if he didn't trust Tony to follow after his recent shenanigans.

 

Tony pulled out a toothbrush after buttoning his shirt and put some toothpaste from a little travel tube before stuffing it into his mouth, scrubbing his teeth with one hand while he put the toothpaste back into his bag with the other, Gibbs reaching around him to push the elevator button, first the one on the outside, to call the elevator, then the one on the inside to take them to the bullpen. As Tony came up to his desk he spat into his trash before rinsing his mouth with a sip of water before spitting that into his trash as well.

 

"Ah nothing better than being minty fresh!" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth on a stray napkin from takeout a few days before, before grinning at the Mossad liaison. "Isn't that right Zi-vah" He segmented the name teasingly before grinning at her.

 

" You look like you just gave a... What is that word..." she paused here, looking over at McGee for assistance. "Suck...job?" McGee snickered some, at Tony, not the misuse of the word.

 

"Blow job Ziva." McGee corrected as he looked back at his computer.

 

"In my experience, you suck, you do not blow." She murmured, shrugging, but filing away the terminology, while Tony tried to fix his hair in his monitor's reflection after wiping off the remaining toothpaste.

 

"That's not important, what is important is how McVirgin knows about blowjobs."

 

"Everyone knows DiNozzo. They're all over the Internet. Gear up." Gibbs had walked right by him, but Tony was frozen to the spot momentarily. Had Gibbs just admitted to watching blow jobs in porn or had it just been banter? It had to have been banter. Yet, Tony's mouth still ran dry, pulse rushing, as he could almost feel Gibbs' dick in his mouth. Suddenly he had never wanted anything more at any particular moment than to see his boss in the throes of ecstasy, hand tangled in his hair...

 

' _No!_ ' he chided himself realizing that it would be impossible to hide a full on erection in the pants he was wearing, much less in the elevator with all of his coworkers. Already more than halfway there, he forced himself to recall all manner of grizzly crime scenes as he walked to the elevator. Slowly but surely, Tony's boner wilted, and he heaved a sigh of relief, continuing the montage long after the doors closed.

 

When the case ended, the director was standing on the stairwell, waiting for them. "Agent DiNozzo, I need to see you in my office." She stated. "It's urgent." Not waiting for the dismissal from Gibbs, he jogged up to where the director was standing, before following her into her office.

 


	10. The Director's Office

Anxiety pooled in Tony's stomach as the distance to the Director's office shortened. He could feel Gibbs' eyes on him still, like they had been for most of the day. Even though they had rounded the corner those eyes were trained on the back of his head like a remote control helicopter.

This case, as sad as it was to see another dead member of the military, had seen Tony running around on cloud nine, anticipating and doing his absolute best because he wasn't busy second guessing himself to curry favor. Instead he had been working off of his own natural instinct and had found a clue that had lead to the arrest of the criminal.

He had been planning on catching the elevator with Gibbs and inviting him over for a movie and takeout that weekend, their first 'official' date, but there was a good chance that Gibbs would be gone by the time the director let him go.

"Let me be the first to say, Agent DiNozzo," The director started, shutting the door to her office and sitting behind her desk, starting to shuffle folders around before selecting the one that she wanted, setting it in front of her, then folding her hands on top of it. "That all of your extra work these last few weeks has not gone unnoticed."

Tony smiled some, not because of the praise, but because for once there was something Jenny Shepard didn't know. It wasn't that he liked keeping his boss' boss in the dark, it was just that there were so few chances to savor the realization that you knew something a head of a government agency did not.

"As result of your dedication I have a very _special_ assignment to offer you." she lifted her hands from the folder and opened it, turning it towards him. It was a dossier, on a very attractive brunette. Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Director?" he asked, still looking at the girl and skimming the file.

"She is the daughter of an arms dealer that needs to be caught. Your mission is to get into her confidence, and thusly her father's, by any means necessary. We have a cover prepared for you for when you inevitably make contact and become her boyfriend."

Tony's head shot up from the dossier when the Director mentioned being this, admittedly very lovely, girl's suitor. "I'll have to respectfully turn down the mission if I'm expected to be this girl's boyfriend Director." he stated, gently sliding the folder back towards her. "I guess you'll have to give it to McGee or another team."

"This isn't like you Special Agent DiNozzo." The Director observed, steepling her fingers, and Tony suddenly remembered that before she was Director of NCIS, she was Special Agent Jenny Shepard, partner to the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Damn, this was going to be tough to explain. "I'd like you to explain yourself in regards to turning this assignment down."

"I'm in a relationship with someone really special, and I'm not jeopardizing that." Tony stated honestly, He would of course have to fudge the details a bit if she asked, but he could do that, hell it was easy enough to do. As usual, Gibbs had a rule for that too, and it worked. At least most of the time.

"Since when?"

"Officially? Last night. But I've been pining after her for years. LeAnne is just the best. And the best looking. Her chest, ass and everything else. God I could just look at her all day, which is good cuz I'm not allowed to touch yet. Gotta be a good boy." Tony smirked wolfishly, picturing all of the times he's seen those hard muscles move beneath clothing or feeling them, like that day on the roof with Kate. It still stung to think about Kate, and that he had failed her, but feeling all of that power behind Jethro was a very small silver lining. He shifted to hide the sudden, but not unexpected, erection, and hoped that Jenny Shepard didn't notice it. If she did, she didn't comment on it.

"Are you certain this girl is worth passing up a promotion? If you take it you wouldn't just be Anthony DiNozzo, special agent, you would be Anthony DiNozzo _Secret Agent_." he knew she was trying to be persuasive, dangling his love of James Bond in front of him. If he were in a relationship with any other person it would be tempting enough and he'd take it. Maybe even trying to play both relationships. Or at least appear like he was.

"A promotion?" he echoed, sounding quite a bit torn, and if he wanted to be perfectly honest the offer was very tempting. But Jethro was more so. Tony shook his head "I'm sorry director but LeAnne is worth far more than any promotion." He saw the look on the director's face and sighed, he wasn't getting away that easily. "Tell you what director. I'll take the position if you can get Gibbs to agree to it. He's my direct boss and he knows how to keep a secret. You really should ask him since I'm a part of his team."

Jenny's brows furrowed momentarily, before returning to their places on her mask of calm. Tony could almost see the thoughts whirring in her head. He could just see ' _What makes this girl so special_?', ' _Why Gibbs?_ ' and ' _Who does he think he is?_ ' floating on the tip of her tongue, but staying firmly in place behind lightly colored lips.

"You have a point Agent DiNozzo. I'll have a talk with Agent Gibbs." she stood and opened her door as a dismissal, promising they'd be in touch, and Tony was surprised to turn and see none other than Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who had pretty obviously been in the middle of harassing Cynthia about why his boss would take his underling and what she wanted with him. Thankfully by the time he was forced to stand the pesky erection had been deflated from having to keep his mind on things other than how his boss looked and felt.

Tony slid out of the Director's Office, giving Cynthia and Gibbs a sheepish smile. Jenny Shepard spoke first, before Gibbs had any chance to question him, and before Tony had any inkling of making up some reason to be in her office that wouldn't worry him.

"Agent Gibbs. Perfect timing, I was just going to have Cynthia call you up here." Her voice was slightly icy, as if she was sick of having him put his nose in places it didn't belong, even though he was usually finding information he needed to close a case when he snooped.

"DiNozzo. Go work on your report." Gibbs ordered, brushing past him without a second glance.

Tony looked over at Cynthia when the door closed. Like a true professional she didn't seem unseated at having Gibbs probably on the verge of yelling at her when asking didn't work. Giving her a somewhat apologetic look he motioned towards the door leading back into the rest of NCIS. "I should probably get to work... Gibbs could actually..." he let his sentence trail off debating to himself how mad his boss would be. Getting a nod from the secretary, it was all he could do not to bolt.

Tony returned to his desk looking anxious, and getting strange stares from the other two members of their team. He fired up his computer and started typing away, before finally glaring at them both when they didn't stop staring. " _What_?" He snapped, on edge as he looked up at them both. "Got a problem Ziva? Probie?" Both shook their heads and went back to their reports, seemingly startled out of their daze. Tony made a face at his computer screen, glaring at it as if it were the cause of his current predicament as he typed.

No, any fury directed at him from Gibbs would all be his fault.

An hour passed, and Ziva left, dropping her report on Gibbs' desk. A half an hour later and McGee followed. Gibbs still wasn't down yet, but he was sure that there was an intense discussion going on between them. He knew they had a history. He knew that their director had a thing for Gibbs yet as well. He could smell it all over her. But he hadn't ever attributed any lust from Gibbs back to her, so maybe they weren't up to anything. Tony would just be crushed if in a fit of anger and disappointment at this new 'girlfriend' Gibbs fell for the advances of a redhead.

At the two hour mark, Tony finished his report, and went to put it on Gibbs' desk, proof reading as he went, only to return to his desk to correct something. After another half an hour had passed from Tony's release, he was finally satisfied with his report, and set it on the desk. Only then did he hear a door upstairs opening. By the time Gibbs got to the bullpen, Tony was turning off his computer and packing up his things to go.

"Report done DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice was tense, probably angry... No most definitely angry. The set to his shoulders and way he walked, like a spring slowly coiling up more and more gave it away.

"Yes boss."

"Good. Go home." Tony did as he was told, grabbing his backpack and heading towards the elevator slowly, watching Gibbs with confusion. The man was sitting there reading reports and he still didn't know if things were okay. But he knew better than to ask at work. Maybe he would text Gibbs later? Did Gibbs even know how to text?

The doors opened and he got on the elevator alone, taking the short ride to where the garage was, before getting into his car and going home. The night was uneventful and eventually Tony started drifting off to sleep.

Just as he was about to fall deeply into slumber, imagining scents of bourbon and sawdust accompanying his clean cotton sheets, a loud pounding came from his front door. Whoever it was was knocking loud enough to wake the dead. At _midnight_. Not any respectable hour, because of course that would be too easy. Tony groaned into his pillow before grabbing his gun off the side table and slipping silently to the front door as the knocking stopped.

Tony peered through the peephole before sighing and clicking the safety back onto his gun. He unlocked the door and opened it, allowing the person inside.

"Gibbs?" He asked with a yawn "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk DiNozzo."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot just how many cliffhangers this part of the story had. If I can get done with my baking with enough time, you maaay get another chapter tonight.


	11. Night Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! The chap didn't get put up before my party, but I did it as soon as I got home. It is 147, and I am beat!

"We need to talk?" Tony echoed blinking sleepily at Gibbs as he looked around the room. Those four words were terrible, awful things, usually dragging breakups into 'it's not you it's me' territory. However, he was much too tired to actually worry and fuss about the statement. Tony watched the man take his look and notice that there were very few personal effects, no sloppily hidden playboys or porn DVDs. Just a big TV and stacks of old movies. He could tell that Gibbs was confused, but he didn't want to deal with it just now. Tony just closed and locked the door behind Gibbs, setting the gun on the table in the hallway before coming back out into the living room to join his irate boyfriend.

"Who in the hell is that woman DiNozzo? I thought we made a deal." Gibbs whirled on him as Tony's brows furrowed in confusion at the question, sleepy mind trying to make sense of it.

"There's no girl Gibbs." Tony explained going to the couch and sitting down, motioning for the older man to sit with him. The offer was declined, but Gibbs did move to pace between the couch and TV.

"No girl? What about LeAnne? The director said you were 'really smitten' with her." There was a pause, and Tony couldn't help but laugh. Not only at Gibbs' use of Jenny Shepard's words but at the thought that the best agent in all of NCIS couldn't figure out something so simple as a name change.

"Ah LeAnne. I had to be careful with her. After all she's really great. You know when we got together she laid out all of these rules? I mean agreeing to it was easy, after all, I've had the hugest crush on her since ever." Gibbs had stopped his pacing, glaring at Tony with a fervor the younger man had never seen. It just made his grin wider. "You know she came into Baltimore on an undercover op and didn't think to tell those of us in charge. I wound up arresting her. She worked, and still does, for a navy yard in DC. Got the best job offer of my life after that. I've been working happily under her since." Tony stood up now, watching Gibbs' expression move from fury to confusion and then disbelief.

"You..."

"Yeah" He reached up and stroked Gibbs' cheek, now roughened with stubble. "LeAnne, with her amazing chest" Tony's hand slid down from Gibbs' cheek to rest briefly on a pectoral, "and stunning ass" the wandering hand continued its journey, only to be caught as it slid around the older male's hip, "was just a feminized version of you. Of course there were things I couldn't tell the director. Like how I love that you always smell of sawdust, even when you haven't had time to work on your boat, or how whenever you're off duty you get just the faintest hint of bourbon mixed in and it's more alluring than any cologne." His voice had dropped during the speech, as he leaned in, slowly brushing his lips against Gibbs'.

At first the older male didn't respond, too busy processing the information. But the second sweep of lips on lips made Gibbs' hand twitch against Tony's wrist. The third brought his other hand up tangling in brown hair, and a more encouraging response. Tony was not surprised by the fact that Gibbs took the lead in the kiss. After all Gibbs led everything. What surprised him the most was how willing he was to just give himself over to those slightly chapped but still supple lips, and soon that probing, captivating tongue. It gave him just the barest taste of Gibbs as it explored his mouth, pressing against and tangling with his own tongue, enough to make Tony's head spin and crave more.

It was seconds and eternities before they broke apart and Tony pressed his face into the crook of Gibbs' neck, feeling his pulse flutter there. He longed to bite, not hard, just enough for a taste. But that would probably scare him off, so Tony settled for a soft kiss instead. "Stay?" he asked, somewhat impulsively, feeling and hearing Gibbs' heartbeat increase.

"That's not a good idea DiNozzo." he stated, voice a bit gruffer, huskier, clouded with lust.

"Just to sleep. Please? It's nice having someone here." It was pretty obvious that they both wanted more, but he knew Gibbs meant what he said when he insisted they take it slow.

"Are you taking that promotion?"

"No. I have no interest in that girl when I have you." He pulled back so Gibbs could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I know it sounds cheesy, but I'd give up a million promotions and a million pretty girls for you."

Gibbs still seemed dubious. "You're right. That is cheesy." Tony couldn't help the smile that came at seeing how they were nearly teasing each other, at least in the brunette's mind. He would get legitimate humor out of Gibbs one day.

"I warned you. So are you gonna stay?"

A sigh came from Gibbs, as he looked into those hopeful eyes. "Damn it DiNozzo, you're like a dog with a bone."

"Is that a yes? Because it's getting late and I'd hate to see you get into a wreck when you could be safe in my bed." His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief before closing when Tony yawned, stifling it into his hand.

"...Just this once DiNozzo, because we're doing this right."

"I know. The bedroom's this way." Tony nodded, almost shyly as he turned, using the wrist that Gibbs gripped as a lead. The bedroom was just as sparse, a large bed with two nightstands took up one wall, a dresser with several drawers took up most of the next, the third had what looked to be a spacious closet, and the fourth was bare, with the exception of a few windows. By the time Gibbs finished his inspection, Tony had already seated himself on the side of the bed that he had vacated to open the door and was in the process of putting his gun in the nightstand drawer. When he was done he looked up at the other man and motioned to the other side of the bed in invitation.

"Do you want a pair of pants? I have something that might fit..." Gibbs shook his head at the offer, pulling off his shirt and folding it, before setting it on the dresser, kicking off his shoes and setting them next to the dresser, and putting his socks in them before finally, slowly sliding out of his jeans. He folded them as well and set them on top of the shirt, before turning around to move to the vacant side of the bed. Tony was leaning back on his elbows and watching him with half lidded eyes. The closer he got the easier it was to tell that his pupils were dilated, even though the blanket covered the most obvious sign of his arousal.

"Sleep DiNozzo." Gibbs instructed as he climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up around his own waist. While he normally slept in his boxer shorts, this was still a new experience, being in a bed with a man who so obviously wanted him, a man that he couldn't deny he wanted in return. The light clicked off and Gibbs watched the silhouette of his senior field agent settle onto his side, before doing the same. Everything in here smelled like Tony. Expensive soaps that held a fruity smell just as much as some earthen wood. To a degree it reminded him of Shannon, but that didn't bother him as much as little similarities usually did. This time he wasn't angry at his bedmate for not being enough of her to fill the void. But maybe that's because having DiNozzo on his six was already starting to mend it. Because Gibbs couldn't deny that as similar as they could be sometimes, Tony was always Tony.

"Gibbs?" Tony asked sleepily, voice quiet and heavy. "What took so long in the Director's office?" The query was greeted with a sigh because it was expected, yet unexpected at the same time. Normally he'd answer with a ' _none of your business_ ' except, it really was Tony's business since it directly involved him.

"Jen was being stubborn. She wanted you to do this op and I kept telling her you didn't want it or else you wouldn't have fought so hard for her to ask me. Tomorrow she's probably going to ask you again, but I'm not worried about it. Just gotta be firm." What Gibbs wasn't saying was that the whole op reeked of desperation and a hidden agenda. He didn't feel like there was much to say on that front though because Tony wasn't even debating getting into the middle of this mess.

"Oh... 'Kay" he could feel Tony relax again, lulled to sleep by the unspoken reassurance that his job would be safe, and by the weight on the other half of the bed reminding him that he wasn't alone. The soft breathing and warmth of the bed was enough to put a soporific effect on Gibbs as well and soon both males were fast asleep.

By the time Gibbs woke up with the first streams of sunlight, he and Tony were tangled together. One of his arms was snugly fitted around the man's waist to have fingers splayed on his chest. Both of Tony's arms were clutched around the one wrapped around him, and one of his legs had slid back to tangle with Gibbs' own. A quick glance at the alarm clock revealed that it was just a little past oh-five-hundred, and chances are Tony wouldn't be awake before at least oh-six, maybe oh-six-thirty. Plenty of time for him to slip out without notice, but the warm, light feeling that had filled him made him loathe to move. No matter how much he wanted coffee or to hit the head.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and finally Tony changed his position, withdrawing his leg and releasing the grip on Gibbs' arm. Slowly, gently, the man slid out of bed and out of the bedroom. He went to the bathroom first, before heading down to the kitchen to see about Tony's coffee situation. The machine was easy enough to locate and figure out, but the grounds seemed to be hiding from him.

They were located a short while later, having been hidden behind boxes of macaroni and cheese. He didn't bother reading the bag at first, instead opening it and inhaling the rich scent. Obviously an expensive blend, and strikingly familiar. He glanced at the bag and saw that it was the blend that Tony usually got from Starbucks, only bearing some fancy Italian label. It figured that Tony would have something imported. Everything he owned seemed to have some label or another attached to it.

It made Gibbs wonder why the attraction to him was present. Not that there was anything wring with him, it was just he was a simple man with simple hobbies, whereas Tony was everything luxurious. He was raised in a life of excess and did his damnedest to keep living that life.

Gibbs' estimation of Tony being aroused from sleep at zero-six-hundred was startlingly correct, considering how often the man was late to work. Gibbs even thought he heard a groan coming from the bedroom as the alarm clock was turned off. Slowly but surely, signs of life started coming from down the hall. A shuffle step here, a stumbling thump of Tony bumping into a wall while trying to walk around with his eyes closed there, and soon, leaning against the counter, cup of coffee in hand, Gibbs was able to see Tony make his way into the hall. He watched the brunette blink owlishly at the light from the sun streaming through the kitchen window, before grinning at the fact that this wasn't just an extremely detailed dream.

"You stayed."

"Won't be staying long DiNozzo. Gotta go home to shower and change."

"You could shower here, with me." Tony's attempts to be seductive, with a little wink even, was more cute than sexy and Gibbs found himself hiding a smile with his mug.

"'Fraid not DiNozzo. We're taking things slow remember?" he asked after schooling his features and finishing his mug of coffee. Tony shuffled forwards and gave him a light kiss before it could be dodged. "And I was planning on leaving once you woke up anyways."

"If you're going to abandon me so quickly at least agree to Friday. Come over after work and bring a movie. I'll bring home food."

Gibbs debated, filling a second mug with coffee and preparing it the way Tony liked to keep the younger man in suspense. Three sugars and some cream. He wasn't a federal agent for nothing after all. He turned back and pressed the mug into Tony's hands.

"Friday." He finally agreed, slipping around Tony to go to the bedroom and put on his clothes. When he came back out Tony was sipping at the mug, having taken over the place at the counter he had left. As he went towards the door he gave a little nod to his field agent, who responded with a smile. The door was unlocked, then opened before Gibbs turned around, face serious.

"And DiNozzo. Don't be late." He stated with a warning scowl, which only served to make the brunette laugh, first a chuckle, then a full out guffaw, having to set the coffee down to avoid spilling it. Before Tony could recover, Gibbs was out the door, the soft snick of the latch the only sound in his wake.

 


	12. The First Date

Much to everyone's surprise Tony was not late to work. In fact, quite the opposite, he was nearly five minutes early and looking sharper than normal. He wore a black Armani three piece suit, with a red silk tie. The other agents were staring, nearly slack jawed, but Gibbs knew the suit and the meticulousness for what it was. Tony had put on battle armor, prepping for a war of personnel, a war of smiles and appearances. Jenny Shepard didn't stand a chance. Gibbs couldn't help but be a little proud that his best agent was going to give his ex - ex Probie, ex lover, almost ex wife - hell because she was sticking her nose in everything that it didn't belong in. She had an agenda and he knew it as well as she did. Sucking his agents into it wasn't appreciated or right, even if this was now her agency.

Was he more protective because of this thing that he had with DiNozzo? Maybe. But he had a feeling he'd have reacted just as fiercely if it were McGee or Ziva that she was targeting. His team was like his family after all. No... Not like his family. It _was_ his family. The only family he could stand anyways.

"You gonna be able to work in that suit DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, watching the other man fidget with his cuffs and tie in the reflection of his computer monitor from across the bullpen. Instantly Tony straightened, then slid into a pose of relaxation so natural that only someone who knew the man well would be able to pick up on the nerves. A lazy, cocky grin appeared on the man's face as fingers eased through the darker brown hair to be certain every strand was in place.

"Of course boss. Gotta look good while on the job. You never know when a perfectly pressed suit will come in handy with a witness." The smile was disarming, but Gibbs could tell from his eyes, the way they flicked to his monitor, carefully positioned to not only see himself but to see up on the staircase where Jenny would eventually appear, that he felt hunted, nearly trapped. The protective side of Gibbs wanted to push himself between his agent and the perceived threat, to show his agent just who he belonged to.

"Then prove it and get to work." He growled, getting up and stalking off to get more coffee. Though the sludge they provided here could usually pass for coffee, it was not, by any stretch of the imagination, _good_ coffee. Nothing like what he had before he left DiNozzo's place this morning. _That_ had been some damn fine coffee. DiNozzo had good taste in beans but bad taste in preparation. Far too sweet for his taste.

When Gibbs returned, steaming cup in hand, the whole team was typing away or pouring over cold case files, dutifully 'uh huh'ing or posing an 'oh really?' as Tony regaled them with a blithe yet coy retelling of the events between him and 'LeAnne' last night. Gibbs wasn't quite sure if this was a move to play up his affections for the director and her minions or if it was truly just Tony being Tony and his need to brag in that, as Kate had called it, sophomoric way of his.

Knowing the truth, Gibbs almost found the idea of Tony being over the moon endearing. Almost. "DiNozzo!" He snapped, smacking the man upside the head as he passed, before heading towards his desk and sitting down, beginning to work on his own reports.

"Sorry boss!" DiNozzo replied almost instantly, rubbing the back of his head lightly, smoothing any misplaced hair back down. "Won't happen again."

"It better not." Gibbs growled, even though they both knew it would. Out of all of the quirks his agents could possess, this was easy to deal with. Being boisterous was better than being trigger happy or unsure of yourself. Though all three could lead to death in their own way. Still he had a damn good team, and he wouldn't trade them for anything.

Eventually, around lunch that day, Jenny had called Tony up into her office for another chat. Tony came back looking stolid an hour or so later, whereas Jenny wasn't seen for the rest of the day. Even through the lack of expression on his second in command's face, Gibbs knew he was relieved from the way he relaxed in his chair automatically and was able to get right into work without prompting.

It wasn't until Tony claimed he wasn't hungry when dinner came around that the team noticed their senior field agent hadn't eaten all day. "Maybe he _is_ in love." Ziva quipped, as McGee looked nervous.

"Maybe. Or maybe the director did something to him." McGee speculated, quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure she hadn't snuck up on him. There was an exasperated sigh from Tony that drew everyone's attention.

"I'm just not hungry. There's no reason to make a big deal of it. In fact McGoo, _you_ could stand to skip a few meals yourself, if you wanna have any hope of attracting the ladies."

"I'll have you know Tony, I have absolutely no problem getting a date."

"So when was the last time you had one?"

"I haven't had time lately. I've been busy."

The bickering between the two agents didn't last long, and with little interruptions the evening faded into night and everyone was sent home. As it drew closer and closer to Friday, Tony retained the battle armor of a nice suit, but became nearly frantic with nervous energy in the office. Everyone was thankful that he was immune to this new case of the jitters when they were out in the field though. Professionalism was a skill that he had learned well, in his own way. Besides, Tony knew, perhaps better than it was believed, that Gibbs would nip this in the bud if he couldn't keep from being a total dipshit in the field. And God if every molecule, every _atom_ in his body, didn't call out for Gibbs. His touch, his kiss, his warmth nearby. If this got destroyed before it had a real chance Tony would be devastated.

When the big night finally came Tony brought Chinese. He knew Gibbs' favorites from the place because of what he ordered when they got Chinese at work. Or at least he hoped they were his favorites. He set the containers on a warming plate and checked his watch, pacing the length of the kitchen island before moving around it and sitting on the couch. One shoe clad foot tapped on the carpet, and his tongue darted out every so often to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

Minutes passed like hours, each tick of the second hand feeling like an eternity. He had been so focused with his watch that he missed hearing footsteps on the stairs, then coming down the hall. He was so engrossed in the minute, rhythmic ticking of his watch that when the firm knock sounded through the room he jumped to his feet and reached for the gun that he had long since put away.

It must be Gibbs.

He moved to stand in front of the door, heart racing and dry mouthed, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks. He hadn't changed out of his work pants, though he did lose the suit coat and tie, as well as undoing the first two buttons on his shirt. His hand hesitated over the doorknob as he swallowed, trying to regain his devil-may-care composure.

A minute and a half passed before he was finally able to bring himself to open the door, fingers fumbling on the polished knob as he turned it. When the door opened Gibbs was on the other side, looking rather amused.

"I was wondering how long it was gonna take ya to open the door." He teased, stepping inside once Tony had moved. The brunette mock pouted.

"Hey it's not like I was just sitting around waiting for you. I was getting things ready." He lied, gesturing to the island separating the kitchen from the living room. Plates were resting next to the warmers that held the takeout containers, fighting against the tendency of that particular ethnicity's food to congeal into Popsicle like entities when cool. Both containers however were still steaming, so there was no worrying there.

Tony watched as Gibbs set the movie he brought on an end table near the couch, before speaking again. "Do you want to eat at the island before the movie or on the couch during? And do you want a beer? I've got some chilling in the fridge."

Gibbs nodded and took a seat at the island with a simple 'before' and 'yeah', thanking Tony when a bottle of his favorite beer was set in front of him.

"Do you want the chopsticks or a fork?"

"Chopsticks work." Tony nodded at that response, coming and sitting across from Gibbs, handing him one of the pre packaged sets of chopsticks. They divided up the Chinese onto two plates and began to eat.

Eating happened in relative silence, most of the conversation happening from Tony's end, as a valve to relieve some of the first date jitters. He knew Gibbs was a largely silent man, but to his credit he seemed to be putting up with Tony's chit chat rather well. Granted the man _had_ been married four times, but Tony wanted to think Gibbs listened because he liked him.

The movie was an awkward affair though. At least from Tony's perspective. The two men were seated six inches from each other on the couch, and it was spent in silence, in respect for Gibbs' choice to take things slowly. Normally there was some sort of cuddling going on, usually initiated by him. Tony had wanted to, but a fear of being rebuffed due to the rules Gibbs had in place for them kept him still. So he waited for Gibbs to initiate something. But Gibbs just drank his beer and watched the movie while Tony's eyes stayed glued to him through the reflection in the black edge around his flat screen. The wild gunshots and whooping yodels of a stereotypical westernesque Indian failed to draw his attention like it normally would have.

There was no awkward or shy grab for his hand as it laid between them. There was no yawn and stretch to get Gibbs' arm around his shoulders or even across the back of the couch.

It was just two guys, in the dark, watching a movie and drinking beer. By the time Tony worked up the nerve to slide a little closer the ending credits had started to play. Gibbs handed Tony the remote and clicked on the lamp, and Tony blinked a few times to pull the spots out of his vision at the sudden brightness behind Gibbs, throwing him into silhouette.

"That was a good choice in movie Gibbs," Tony remarked, pressing some buttons on the offered remote, before standing to grab the disk as it ejected from his DVD player. He had dug up his old VHS just in case that's what Gibbs had grabbed, but the man had surprised him by bringing a disk. He made sure to bend just a bit so Gibbs had the chance to eye up the toned muscles hiding under fabric pulled taut. As he put the DVD back in the case he rambled on about Blazing Saddles and how it's the most hilarious western of all time.

When he turned around he found Gibbs watching him, mostly empty beer bottle in his hand. As Tony sat back down on the couch Gibbs finished the beer before nodding at the chatter.

"Next time," he started, interjecting the two words when Tony paused to take a breath, "my place. No movie, no take out." Tony's shock at there being a next time -since in his mind that date went horribly- quickly melted into anticipation from the simple words. What would they be doing? Was Gibbs going to cook? We're they just going to fall into bed and devour each other instead? Giving himself a mental headslap Tony slid back into reality.

"Okay, when, and what do you want me to bring?" Tony questioned, knowing that he could get a lot from the answer.

"Nothin' but yourself DiNozzo. Wear comfortable clothes. Same time next week." Tony nodded and made a mental note as Gibbs got up to recycle the empty bottle.

"Sounds good. It's a date." Comfortable usually meant something you can move in or something you wouldn't mind getting dirty. Maybe even something you can remove in a hurry.

Resolving to think about it in depth later, Tony stood as Gibbs came back around the island. "So what happens now?" He questioned looking expectantly at his boss for the answer.

"Now I go home."

"Already? But it's still early. We could watch another movie. And then you could sleep over." He suggested, grinning charmingly.

Gibbs nearly smiled.

"We're taking this slow Tony." Gibbs reminded gently.

"Right... Slow. Can I at least get a good night kiss? For good behavior?"

"I think you've earned it."

They moved towards each other, Gibbs circling a leather recliner, and Tony coming around the couch, before a rough, calloused hand cupped the vampire's cheek. The gesture was sweet and slow, as were the lips that descended onto his. It took every ounce of willpower to only match the kiss, not push Gibbs down onto the nearest surface and do wicked things to him.

 _'Slow...'_ He reminded himself, shivering as Gibbs pulled away. The sensation of those calloused fingers on his cheek drawing goosebumps down his arms and causing the hairs at the back of his neck to stand on end. Arousal coiled in his stomach but he did his best to push it away.

"You sure you don't wanna stay...?" He questioned, one last time.

"Good night DiNozzo." The statement was forceful, with just a twinge of the same lust Tony felt. But he could tell how much Gibbs wanted him too by the darkened eyes with the dilated pupils and the spicy spike in Gibbs' scent. He covered it well.

"Night boss." He returned, trying not to leer as the man left his apartment and walked down the hall.

He needed a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how people are like 'This is a wonderful getting together story' because they don't know what I have planned. *evil laughter* 
> 
> Also, when we hit chapter 16, that will be the end of the daily or more updates as y'all will be caught up with what I have posted on FF.net But the good news for you is that I have most of 17 written and that when I crossposted here, I updated the chapters minorly. So yay


	13. Unfocused

"So tell me more about your boss." Adonis purred, leaning over the bar early on Sunday morning, a coy grin on his glossed lips. Night Delight was mostly empty, with only half a dozen or so people munching on snacks or sipping drinks, heedless of the fact that lunch hadn't even come yet. The blonde rested a chin on his hand. Tony ducked his head as his cheeks involuntarily colored, a soft smile appearing on his lips.

"Gibbs...is different. He's not anything I've ever gone for before in either a man or a woman. He's serious, and special and... And... For Christ's sake he builds a boat in his basement!" Tony exclaimed with a groan, dropping his head onto the bar-top with a thunk. The ice in his glass rattled from the movement, causing the Pepsi in his glass to fizz.

Well manicured fingers stroked through the agent's hair, causing him to relax even with his back to the door in an unsecured area. If this continued for long enough he'd likely doze off. Currently the fingers were expertly massaging his scalp, loosening his tongue every so slightly.

"Gibbs is commanding and powerful. Got eyes that can pierce through anything. So captivating and I could stare into them all day." He murmured, "He's handsome and in shape too. All hard muscle and angled lines." Tony shivered, his mind immediately bringing the phantom feelings of Gibbs holding him tight, pressing up against him and trying to lull him to sleep. "And those hands... Have I mentioned he builds boats in his basement? I'm not a fetishist, but God, I could worship those hands." Tony fell silent again, his breathing evening out some.

"Poor thing. You've got it bad." Nis' tone was sympathetic, but still ever so slightly teasing. Tony just groaned in response.

"No kidding."

"Sleep with him yet?"

"No." Tony groaned again here, moving his hands under his head miserably. "One of his rules is that we take it slow, do it right."

"And?" Nis asked, obviously expecting those rules to go out of the window as quickly as they would with him.

"We went on one, really awkward, date, and then he kissed me goodnight and went home. Glaciers have moved faster."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing I can do but sit here like Ginnifer Goodwin's character Gigi pining after Alex, played by Justin Long, in _He's Just Not That Into You_ "

"Sweetie you're not that pathetic. You're just learning how hard it is to be in a real relationship that isn't meant to last for a week. You're growing up."

"Growing up sucks."

"Preaching to the choir. That's why I'm not doing it."

"You're not settling down because you like sleeping with anything that moves too much." Tony grumbled, causing Nis to laugh in response. After all, it _was_ completely true. History had proven that he was too much of a slut to stick to one person anyways. Weak wills and cheap thrills as they say. 

"That too."

"Kate would ask how you're not diseased."

"I ask that question myself sometimes." Nis paused here, leaning closer to massage the back of Tony's neck. "You miss her?"

"Every day." His tone turned somber here, and Tony couldn't help the lightning strike of loss and failure that shot through him.

"It gets easier."

"I know."

Tony lifted his head slightly, sliding one of his hands across the bar to grab his drink, maneuvering it so he could sip from the straw without dislodging Adonis' hand.

"So how do my hands compare to your boyfriend's?" He asked when Tony had set his drink back down.

"He's not...” He started, before trying again, “We're not...” He gave up trying to explain that they hadn't really talked about what Gibbs wanted to call them, if he even wanted to put a name to it, before just answering the question, “Softer, more feminine, not a hint of callous. But very, very good at what they do." Tony grabbed the paler, slimmer hand and tilted his head so he could better catch the scent. "What perfume do you have on?"

"Lotion, and it's Cashmere Glow."

"Bath and Body Works. Gibbs smells like sawdust and bourbon."

"I remember from our little interrogation. I was thinking about that voice for _days_." Tony couldn't help the possessive growl that rose from his throat. Something deep and obviously inhuman, eyes flashing ever so slightly.

"Back off. He's mine."

"We could share..." Nis teased flirtatiously, using his free hand to muss Tony's hair up until it stuck out everywhere.

"Not happening. Even if he was into it. Remember Jasper?" Tony replied, jerking away with a mock scowl to fix his hair.

"I saved your ass, he was abusive. Besides, you stole Amber from me."

"Danger of threesomes." He was starting to settle into the banter, calming back down from the

"Amen to that."

Before Tony could bring up the red-headed Tammy that had taken them both for a ride and nearly wrecked their friendship, his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the screen, heart skipping a beat when he read the name.

"Gibbs. I need to take this."

"Not a problem, take your time." Nis stated, backing off to do one of the things he had been putting off to listen to Tony.

Smiling thankfully, Tony answered the call, right before it clicked over to voicemail. "Morning Boss."

"Got a case DiNozzo. What's your 20?"

"Hanging out with a friend. I'll be there soon."

"Get here sooner DiNozzo." The line went dead before he could answer, but he did anyways out of habit.

"Gotcha." Pulling a few bills out if his pocket, he set them on the bar and finished his Pepsi, before waving a goodbye to Nis and taking off out the door.

Not having to get ready for the day, Tony was the first one in the bullpen, aside from Gibbs. Hearing the elevator ding, Tony looked up to see Ziva and McGee walk off. Ziva was fuming about something, and with his hearing he could tell what they were saying, but just watched them with interest as they came closer.

"Men are such bad liars." Ziva stated, matter of factly.

"But if a good liar was telling you a lie, you would not know it was a lie." McGee rebutted, holding a finger up to make his point.

"Ha! I would." Ziva barked, folding her arms smugly.

"How would you know?" McGee queried, raising an eyebrow as Tony fell into step behind them.

"Know what?"

"When an expert liar is telling Ziva a lie."

"And this started how?"

"Well, I told her that I went to the gym this morning." McGee beamed proudly, as if getting to the gym before ten was a big accomplishment.

"No great skill in guessing you were fibbing there, Probie. You may have lost some weight, and personally I am very proud of you. But gym is definitely not your middle name."

"Okay, well," There was a short pause here "Ziva thinks that all men are liars." It was a deflection sure, but nobody expected the topic to stay on McGee's weight for long. Tony looked over at Ziva instead, only half feigning his interest.

"Really? So if I were to lie to you, you would be able to tell?"

Ziva laughed, loud enough to draw the attention of other teams. "Particularly you."

"You think?" He said, his instinct to take on a challenge rising to the surface.

"I wouldn't go there, Tony." McGee warned, but the advice went unheeded.

"Oh, watch and weep." Tony smirked smugly. "True or false? I had leftover Chinese for breakfast this morning."

"True."

"Lucky guess. Last night I had a date with a very beautiful woman."

"False."

Raising an eyebrow, Tony leaned closer to McGee. "She's good."he looked back at Ziva now, smirking. "My first car was a shiny new red Corvette."

"False. Strike three. I win." She stated, her own smirk growing as Tony's face fell in confusion.

"How did… how did you do that?"

"When you said you had a red Corvette, you looked down and to the left. A telltale sign when people lie."

"And the date?" Granted it was two nights ago, and Gibbs wasn't a hot chick, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.

"Tony, if you'd gone out with a beautiful woman last night, you would have been talking about it when you came in."

"I would?"

McGee and Ziva looked at each other before nodding. "Oh, yeah." They replied in unison.

"Okay, but how do you possibly know that I had Chinese for breakfast this morning?"

"Gear up. We have a message from a dead guy." Gibbs stated, walking in with a fresh cup of coffee and grabbing something off his desk. The three chatting agents grabbed their respective bags as well, having put them in a place for easy access.

"Ready to roll, Boss." Tony broadcasted, nearly jumping into place behind Gibbs.

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"You've got egg fried rice on your shirt." Gibbs nearly smiled as he stepped into the elevator, watching Tony scramble to pick off the pieces of his breakfast that clung stubbornly to his collar.

"Not just your shirt." Ziva quipped, obviously pleased as the elevator doors dinged shut. Tony rolled his eyes at her and rubbed the strap of his backpack with his thumb.

The elevator could comfortably hold two, even three, but with four and gear Tony felt kind of like a sardine. However his usual complaining was cut off by the fact that his ass, wonderfully muscled and toned -or so he'd been told anyways- was pressed right up against Gibbs' thigh, mere inches away from the prize Tony had been seeking for nearly his entire career at NCIS.

Maybe, just maybe if he played his cards right, he'd be able to scope Gibbs out so to speak. But how? Precious moments were ticking away and soon he'd be out of time. His gaze landed upon McGee's gear and instantly he came up with an idea. He moved ever so slightly, with some joke about the the talking dead being the next zombie thriller that to be perfectly honest, even he wasn't paying attention to, clapping Tim on the shoulder and tugging at the strap of his backpack to give him a little shake. At the same time he turned just the faintest bit, to try and seek Gibbs' crotch out with his ass, without being too obvious about it. Just the thought of how taboo he was being was enough to draw his mind away from his current task and throw him into a tangent.

It made him wonder what would happen if they were alone in the elevator. Would Gibbs suddenly growl and shove him against the wall, fingers flicking the emergency stop on the elevator in order to pin him and rut against his ass, palming him through his jeans. Only to flip him around and give him something more satisfying to thrust against while kissing him so passionately that it stole his breath away. Continuing until they were moaning and trembling with the force of their orgasms, leaning against each other and satisfied, albeit sticky and in need of clean pants.

Damn it, as cliche as that fantasy was, now he was embarrassingly hard. The elevator stopped and the doors dinged open, and he dropped to a knee, still digging through his fortunately placed bag. McGee and Ziva exited, and Gibbs stepped around him, looking far more composed than Tony thought he would have, though delivering a harder than normal head slap as he passed, stopping in the elevator's doorway.

"Coming DiNozzo?" He growled, glaring at him with a stare that promised revenge.

"Yeah. Just fixing my bag, couldn't find what I was looking for."

"Well hurry up."

Tony didn't respond, instead he was trying to focus on the most unsexy thing he could think of, which just happened to be Mrs. Mallard sunbathing on a nude beach. A few tense and vaguely nauseating moments passed, before he was able to stand up and move briskly out of the elevator, receiving another hard head slap as he passed Gibbs.

"Sorry boss."

"Rule six DiNozzo."

"I know, it's a sign of weakness."

Once everyone was in the truck and they were on the road, McGee turned to look at Tony with a raised eyebrow.

"So what were you looking for in the elevator?"

"A pack of gum." Tony stated, making sure to keep his eyes focused on that little crease between McGee's brow to avoid looking down and to the left, like Ziva had noted him doing this morning. "What's it to ya Probie?"

"Why would you need gum on a case?

"Never know when fresh breath will come in handy McLonely. Ladies appreciate minty freshness."

"And I have been able to gain impressions from gum in various states. That powdery coating also is useful in a pinch." Ziva commented.

Sensing he was beat, McGee conceded the point. "Guess I should be more prepared." He stated, putting his hands on his knees.

"That's why you're a probie, Probie."

Listening to Ziva and her language skills was impressive, but Tony froze when he heard Gibbs start speaking Russian. He moved his chair a little closer to the glass, watching Gibbs' mouth move, hearing those forceful syllables tumbling skillfully from those lips delectable lips. Languages had never been his forte, not like Gibbs and Ziva anyway, aside from some Italian, he only knew English and Spanish. Maybe that explained why he found Gibbs' Russian so captivating, then again, he wasn't turned on by Ziva. Or maybe it was that Gibbs was so alluring. Regardless, he was focusing less and less on the actual interrogation and more on whether or not he could convince Gibbs to talk dirty to him in Russian.

It wasn't until the guy monitoring the interrogation room cleared his throat for the third time that he returned to the present. Jerking his head up in surprise he looked over at the source of the sound, surprised that the interview was over so quickly. Standing he nodded at the tech and left the room, thankful that he hadn't let his fantasies go as far as they had wanted to.

It was official. Tony loved hearing his first name coming from Gibbs' mouth, and being told to make himself at home in Gibbs' house. Even if he had to babysit Mike Franks. It was a shame that there were other agents in the house and it was a job. He'd have loved to sneak into Gibbs' room and breathe in his scent off of a pillow.

Tony stood by the fact that even with that urge, he wasn't creepy. Not one bit.

But when he took his eyes off of the stack of unopened mail on Gibbs' counter Mike Franks was gone, sending Tony momentarily into panic mode. He could still smell the faintly acrid odor of fresh cigarette smoke and stale booze that clung to the retired agent. He didn't believe Franks was an alcoholic, just that his age brought less care for his appearance than he used to have.

Or so Tony supposed anyways.

No sooner had he found Franks, by following the smoke, did Gibbs call. He turned away from Mike for just a moment, to focus on the call. There was a shuffling sound and Tony started to turn back, a hand on his gun, when suddenly, something hard struck him at the base of his skull.

Dropping the phone with a cry, Tony collapsed, vision going dark. The last thing he heard as he slipped from consciousness was Gibbs calling his name.

When he came to again, he was surrounded by paramedics and Gibbs. Slowly he sat up, running a mental check over his extremities, making sure everything was working properly. His toes wiggled when he wanted them to, and his fingers moved obediently as well. Once he had sat up fully, he gingerly reached to touch the lump forming on the back of his head. He didn't feel blood, but if he had been out long enough for Gibbs to get here, he would have easily formed a scab by now. He looked at Gibbs and the paramedics questioningly.

"Did I lose any hair?" He asked, smiling softly as the paramedic, a good looking brunette chuckled and smiled at him.

"No." The EMT replied, packing up her bag. Gibbs tore his gaze away from Tony's head, and looked at the paramedic before she could leave.

"How is he?" Gibbs asked, the faintest hint of worry noticeable in his voice, to those that knew him well.

"He'll live." The paramedic replied, and Tony couldn't help but chime in with a cheeky grin.

"Well, I've been hit harder, Boss, by you."

The paramedic left some instructions that Tony missed due to his careful observing of Gibbs, who remained crouched beside him. Tony could pick out the worry in the man's eyes. Tony assumed it was more about Franks than it was about him. After all, Gibbs had been friends with Mike since he was a Probie fresh out of the Marines.

"Once we find Franks and this whole business with Puchenko and Arkady is over, we're gonna have a chat about you getting hurt all the time. And don't think I forgot about that stunt you pulled in the elevator." Gibbs muttered to him, after clearing his throat to draw Tony's attention to the present again.

"Gotcha boss. Here's what happened." Tony volunteered, beginning to explain the attack, or what he remembered of it anyways.

  



	14. The Second Date

Between the mild concussion, which was fixed with fresh blood and a good night’s rest, and solving the case involving the two Russians, it was Friday before Tony knew it. It wasn’t until lunch that he looked at his calendar to get the date. As his gaze landed on today’s square and the glittering star sank in. The star marked his second date with Gibbs. The date that was taking place in Gibbs’ house no less. The date that was tonight.

God, he was so ecstatic. How could he have forgotten? He looked up at Gibbs and grinned wider, looking around the room before he became suspicious by staring straight at Gibbs and grinning like a cat with cream.

“Something the matter DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked after a few moments.

“I have a date with LeAnne tonight.”

“Oh? You’re still dating her?” Ziva questioned, looking up and setting her pen down. McGee looked up as well.

“What do you mean ‘still’?” Tony responded, chuckling a bit nervously. “It’s only been two weeks.”

“Exactly. Tony you’re not known for having long lasting relationships.” McGee pointed out.

“Two weeks must be some kind of record.” Added Ziva, twirling a pen absently.

“Well,” Tony started. He glanced around the room and caught even Gibbs’ hand stilling, waiting for the answer. Taking a breath to fortify himself, he shrugged; “She’s something else. I can’t really explain it. Just one of those things y’know?”

McGee and Ziva shared a look then grinned. “You’re in love!” Ziva exclaimed, jolting from her seat and pointing a finger in his direction.

“Am not!” He replied ducking his head a bit under the scrutiny.

“You are too. You’re looking down and to the left.” McGee chimed in, enjoying being able to put Tony under the magnifying glass of mockery for once.

“Yeah well I could just be trying to fool you with those signs, I know what they are.” Tony shot back, sitting straighter and folding his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Hey! Any of you gonna get some work done? ‘Cause if not you can go home.” Gibbs interjected, hiding a smile behind a scowl.

Immediately, everyone returned to their prior positions and returned to work, Tony moving a little slower than the others. He knew Gibbs could tell that he was nervous, and Gibbs knew he was almost as bad at keeping secrets as Abby. With the exception of the secret he couldn’t tell anyone.

“And DiNozzo.” Gibbs continued after a beat, giving him a welcome excuse to look over at his boss openly.

“Yes boss?”

“Nobody needs or wants to know about your love life. Leave it at home.”

“Of course boss. Won’t happen again.”

“Uh huh.”

They both knew that Tony was the type to brag, but Gibbs hoped that he’d keep it quiet for once. Thankfully enough there were no new cases that they were assigned because as difficult as it would be to admit out loud, Gibbs was looking forward to his date tonight, and had a plan.

The hours moved quietly, only the whir of a printer or the clicking of keys signaling that anyone currently inhabited the Major Case Response Team’s bullpen. Just as Gibbs began to dismiss the team for the night, Tony’s desk phone rang. “Tony DiNozzo’s desk you’ve reached Tony.” He recited, with as much charm and cheer as he could, as if he was expecting a call from his girlfriend.

“ _Agent DiNozzo, glad you’re still here. Can I see you in my office please?”_ the voice of their director, Jenny Shepard, sounded in his ear. Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

Of course she’d call now, just when he was trying to get out of here for his date. The rest of the team was looking quizzically at him. He waved McGee and Ziva towards the elevator without thinking.

“Of course director. Will you want me for long?” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gibbs frown.

“ _It shouldn’t take too long. The door will be open. I’ve sent Cynthia home. Come right in.”_ The line clicked off. No goodbye. Tony stopped wondering how she had been friends with Gibbs.

Setting the receiver back onto the cradle, Tony couldn’t help a sigh. Why did the director have to call him tonight?

“Our darling director needs me.”

“You need backup?”

“Nah, I can handle her. Let LeAnne know I might be late for dinner?”

“I’ll call her.”

“Thanks Gibbs. Drive safe.”

“You too DiNozzo.”

Turning away from Gibbs before he could admit that he didn’t want to go, and try to sneak out. He straightened his clothes put on a calm, determined façade, and walked up to the director’s office.

When he got upstairs and into Jenny’s office, he closed the door behind him at her request.

“I need a favor.” She started. “There are some important, confidential files at Monroe University Hospital and I need you to pick them up.”

“Okay. Can it be done in the morning? Because I have a-“

“Date. I know. Yes, they can be picked up in the morning. You can drop them off when you come in tomorrow. I’ll let Gibbs know you’ll be in late.”

“Thank you director. Who will I be picking them up from?”

“It should be with the nurses on the third floor.”

“Alright. Will do. Anything else?”

“Don’t look in the folder. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Okay.”

“Now all you have to do, is go have fun on your date.” Tony grinned now.

“Oh I plan to director. I plan to.”

Tony arrived at Gibbs’ house a little later than he wanted to. After agonizing over what he was going to wear he decided on an emerald button down and tight jeans. Maybe not as casual as Gibbs wanted, but he looked nice. He stood outside the door for a few minutes, listening and gathering his courage. He could hear Gibbs walking around and smell something delicious cooking.

While he stood there working up the courage to knock, he could hear the footsteps come closer and pause on the other side of the door.

Damn it.

He had just brought his hand up to knock when the door opened, revealing an amused Gibbs.

“Nervous DiNozzo?”

“Of course not.” He scoffed, entering the home when the older man stepped aside. “Should I be?”

“That depends on what Jenny had to say.”

“Just wanted me to pick up a file for her in the morning before work. Not a big deal.” Gibbs ‘uh huh’ed skeptically but motioned to a chair anyways. Tony smiled and took his favorite spot on the couch, nestling in contentedly. The one good thing about Gibbs’ furniture was that he knew how to pick couches. It was plush enough so that you could relax, but not so soft as that you couldn’t get up. It was his favorite spot in Gibbs’ house so far.

After a dinner of cowboy style steak and some boxed pasta side, both of which were delicious, Gibbs brought them both beers. Taking a chance, Tony scooted closer, resting his head on Gibbs’ shoulder. Gibbs looked over and raised an eyebrow before hiding a smile by taking a swig of his beer.

“Comfortable DiNozzo?” The question came after he swallowed.

“Yeah. This is nice Boss.”

“Jethro.”

“What?”

“We’re not at work. You can call me Jethro.”

“Well then, Jethro, you made a wonderful supper.” There was a pause as Tony thought, a somewhat dopey smile on his face. Gibbs had wanted him in casual clothes, presumably things that could get dirty. He took another drink of his beer and tumbled the words around in his head. “So what did you want me to wear comfortable clothes for?” He asked after a while, picking his head up off of Gibbs' shoulder.

“That was quick.” Gibbs stated, standing up and heading towards the basement. “Come on.” He motioned with his head and Tony quickly scampered after him, rolling his eyes. Of course their date activity would be building that damn boat.

No. Not a damn boat. There was something mystical about watching Gibbs sand and plane. He had enjoyed it while he recovered from the plague. Slowly, Tony descended the stairs, standing on the last step and watching Gibbs stand near the wood occupying most of his basement. Tony would, and could, make jokes, but he was too busy watching Gibbs pick up a sanding block. Gibbs motioned for Tony to come closer, and Tony stepped onto the concrete floor, walking up beside Gibbs.

“Here.” Gibbs pressed the block into Tony’s hand, moving him between the wood of the boat and Gibbs’ own body then pressing him close against the wood. He took Tony’s hands in his own with the gentleness that you would use caressing a lover, before positioning them and lightly gliding them along with the grain of the wood. Tony found himself becoming light headed at the gentle touches, the way Gibbs’ body pressed against his, the soft breathing in his ear.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Gibbs stated, continuing to guide Tony’s hands. “You were out of line in the elevator.” Tony could hear the lust etching it’s way into Gibbs’ voice and scent as the first stirrings of arousal were evident in Gibbs’ groin.

“I’d say I’m sorry,” Tony breathed, a smile sliding onto his face, “but I’m not.”

“I know. If we would have been alone, I’d have made you regret that.”

Tony shivered at the hint of promise in Gibbs’ voice. “I wouldn’t have regretted it.”

Suddenly Tony’s arms were pinned roughly to the wood of the boat as Gibbs pressed his body more firmly into one of the support beams for the hull. Lips caressed the shell of Tony’s ear before a light kiss was pressed right behind it. “Even when I didn’t let you get changed?”

“Especially then Jethro…” Tony breathed, pushing back against him. He could feel Gibbs growing more aroused by the moment. A good sign. “We’re alone now.” He hinted, pressing back against the warm body a bit more and rubbing his ass against Gibbs’s crotch, pleased when the grip on his wrists tightened and Gibbs bit his neck lightly. Tony moaned softly, twisting as much as he could in Gibbs’ grip to get a proper kiss out of his boyfriend. He didn’t want to force Gibbs to let him go, although Tony doubted that he could force Gibbs to do anything he didn’t want to do, even with vampire strength.

Tony’s request was granted, after he uttered a whispered ‘kiss me’ into the man’s ear. Gibbs didn’t waste time in taking control, plundering Tony’s mouth with his tongue. Gibbs pressed Tony’s hands into the wood if the boat, as a signal to keep them there, before sliding his hands down Tony’s arms and over his chest. Gibbs’ fingers worked over the buttons on his shirt, leaving the material hanging open, stroking and worshiping the smooth waxed skin with those calloused fingers Tony loved so much.

Fingers expertly grazed over Tony’s pert nipples, before rolling them between thumb and forefinger causing him to moan into the kiss. Gibbs took that moment to break them apart, smirking at how debauched Tony looked already. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tony’s neck, high enough so that it wouldn’t be covered in the morning, before sucking the spot into a dark mark, eliciting soft murmurs of appreciation from the man looking ready to be crucified against the framework of the boat. Before he moved away from that spot, he gave it a harsh bite, eliciting a cry as Tony’s head thumped into the wood of the boat and his nails dug rivets into the smooth hull.

Those would need to be buffed out.

Pulling Tony back against him a bit more, Gibbs gently licked the mark to soothe the pain away. Having to explain it in the morning, feel it every time he moved his head, see it every time he looked in the mirror, that was Tony’s punishment.

He slid one hand down Tony’s body, thumbing over the well groomed trail of hair below the vampire’s navel leading down to the waistband of his pants. Stroking over the button and zipper lightly he palmed Tony’s erection through the denim, reveling in every noise and hitch of breath that came from the younger man.

With his other hand he carefully flicked the button of Tony’s jeans open and slid the fly down, before slipping his right hand inside Tony’s boxers, using his left to continue stroking over his chest and arms.

Tony’s hips jerked forward as Gibbs’ fist closed around his erection, thumb sliding over the head to gather the beading precome. Every stroke, every little skillful twist crashed through the expectations that Tony’s imagination had created in the absence of the real thing. He barely registered all of the embarrassingly needy sounds he was making. He sounded like a mewling virgin all over again.

Tony knew he couldn’t risk biting Gibbs like Gibbs had bitten him - which had been SO unbelievably hot - because his instincts were a lot closer to the surface now, and he didn’t want to reveal himself just yet. Instead he contented himself with grinding back against Gibbs and sucking on his neck until he could feel the blood at the surface and it was so tempting that he had to move on.

After what felt like a wonderful forever and a far too short moment, but was really a nice middle between the two, Tony felt himself coming too close to the edge to keep doing anything coordinated. He let his head rest back on Gibbs’ shoulder, moans, begging and embarrassingly needy little whimpers quickly filled the small space, along with the sounds of Tony’s panting and Jethro’s quiet encouragement.

Tony’s world went black for a moment as he painted the inside of his boxers, along with Gibbs’ hand, with pearly cum. Another part of his ‘punishment’, he assumed.

When he came back to himself Tony realized there were small splinters under his fingernails and he had dropped his hands from the partially finished side of the boat and was being held up by Gibbs’ strong arms.

“God Jethro…” He breathed, running his fingers through the man’s silver hair. “That was so much better than I pictured it. And before you can ask, yes, I do picture it. Every morning I wake up so hard for you… I have for a long time. Sometimes I scream out your name while laying in my bed, and sometimes I’m in the shower… And there are other times where I’ve muffled it into my arm, hiding in the elevator with it stopped between floors. Your hand, your mouth, your cock buried deep in my ass… Loving and slow or fast and rough… My mind drags me everywhere.”

Tony paused and looked over slightly to see Gibbs staring intently at him, Tony smiled seductively in response. “But it’s not always about me. I’ve fantasized about pleasuring you too. Sometimes I’ll use my hands, but my favorite way is this.” To emphasize, he slid down to his knees and nuzzled Gibbs’ cock which was tenting his sweatpants quite obviously.

He could feel precome leak out and dampen his cheek in response. One of Gibbs’ hands tangled in Tony’s hair in response. He stroked his hands up Gibbs’ well muscled thighs, then feeling both cheeks of that wonderful ass, before nuzzling Gibbs’ cock again.

Slowly he slid Gibbs’ sweatpants down, pleased that he was going commando, and even more pleased with the size of the erection that was in his face. Gibbs was wonderfully sized, cut, and surrounded by curls that had not yet finished turning grey. Tony took great pleasure in a slow exploration of Gibbs’ penis. He tasted and touched, caressed and kissed. Then finally when the grip in his hair tightened to the point that it was nearly too painful, he glanced up, licked his lips, and proceeded to wrap his mouth around the head of Gibbs’ cock, keeping eye contact the whole time. The first couple trips down his shaft were slow and just as exploratory as the kisses had been.

Then as he became certain that it wasn’t just a dream, he began pulling tricks out of his little repertoire. First he varied how and where he sucked and licked. His personal favorite place was the swollen head, where he’d lap up the precome from his slit and smirk as Gibbs tried to fight back a moan. Tony doubted heavily that his boyfriend did as much vocalizing as he did. He didn’t mind though, Gibbs’ quietness made every sound Tony picked up a treasure.

When Tony was done lavishing attention on the head of Gibbs’ cock, he started to move down the shaft, carefully varying his suction and running his tongue over the shaft. After a while, he pulled back just enough to slowly let a breath of air across all of the wet spots. Tony felt Jethro’s hand tremble in his hair from the sensation and heard Gibbs breathe his name.

Now Tony wasn’t an expert at deep throating by any means, but he made up for it in other areas. For example, while Tony’s mouth and left hand worked Gibbs’ dick, his right hand fondled the man’s balls, rolling and ever so gently squeezing, while brushing against his perineum every so often.

Tony loved sensing him slowly slipping towards the edge. The hand in his hair tightened and released rhythmically, and the soft gasps became more frequent. A slightly louder ‘Tony’ was the only warning he got, before Gibbs dropped over the edge and spilled into his mouth.

Tony remained kneeling on the floor after swallowing all of Gibbs’ cum, listening to them both catch their breath. He felt uncomfortably sticky, due to the mess in his pants from when Gibbs got him off, but so long as he didn’t move too much it wasn’t that big of a deal. When Gibbs gathered his breath back, he tucked himself neatly back into his sweatpants and went to the side of the boat, starting to peel off the piece that had the furrows from Tony’s nails in them.

“Those… Could probably be buffed out.” He wavered, feeling guilty as he continued to kneel on the floor.

“Yeah. They could.”

“Then why are you taking off that piece?”

Tony couldn't help but grin when he heard Gibbs answer, hand reflexively coming back to his neck to feel at the wonderful mark, still ever so slightly indented from Gibbs' teeth. He sincerely hoped that this was the end of 'taking it slow'.

“Well. Its simple Tony, I wanna have it in case I turn you into a boat.”

 


	15. Death and Dealers

Tony spent the rest of the night with Gibbs, he took a shower in Gibbs' shower, wore Gibbs' pants, slept in Gibbs' bed. The best part was, in the morning he woke up smelling faintly of old bourbon and sawdust, mixed with something slightly musky and completely edible, like an expensive cologne.

 _'Eau D'Gibbs, guaranteed to bring out the bastard in you and make you completely irresistible.'_ Tony thought with a smile, rolling over to wrap his arm around the warm body next to him and nuzzle into his neck, to feel the steady pulse beneath his lips. Only... His arm met air and then a cold section of sheets where Gibbs had laid only a few hours before. Making an unhappy noise, Tony opened his eyes to inspect the room. No signs of a struggle, but he couldn't hear anything going on either, except for what might be the faint hum of the coffee pot. But that was still across the house, through a closed door and downstairs.

Grumbling, Tony sat up and stretched, hands linked above his head and pulling back, grimacing at all of the little pops and crackling sounds that reverberated through his joints. As he released his grip he heard the door open downstairs and so he got up, slipping to Gibbs' bedroom door and opening it just a crack to better smell who or what was coming.

Gibbs... And Starbucks... And... Something sweet, slightly fruity, maybe even deep fried. "Donuts?" Tony asked, opening the door all the way and sticking his head out. "Boss, you got donuts?" Gibbs looked up the stairs at him almost quizzically, eyes narrowing some to try and figure out how Tony knew.

"You part bloodhound or something DiNozzo?" He asked, setting the box down on the kitchen counter, as Tony descended the stairs in just the pair of borrowed sweatpants, hair a mess, in order to grab one of the confections.

"Nah, but I was a cop in Baltimore remember?" Gibbs swatted his hand away as Tony reached for the box, causing the vampire to pull away with a melodramatic yelp of mock pain.

"Not until you're at work." Gibbs chastised, causing Tony to pout and reach for the box again.

"Come on Jethro, just one? I promise I won't get any sugar on the floor." Tony wheedled, giving Gibbs his best puppy dog eyes in order to convince him.

"They're for the whole team." The look Gibbs was giving him told him to drop the subject because he wasn't going to win, so Tony let it go for now, knowing he'd be getting one soon enough. Instead he wrapped his arms around Gibbs' neck and gave him a soft kiss good morning, smiling at how domestic and wonderful this all seemed. Gibbs set his coffee down and settled his hands on Tony's hips, caught somewhere between pulling him close and pushing him off.

"You're going to need to get going Tony. The director wants you to pick up that file for her and I won't like it if you're late. You won't get any donuts either. After Ziva and McGee get them they're going into the break room."

After huffing and grumbling his displeasure, Tony released his grip on Gibbs and went to find his clothes, pulling them on and grabbing up his keys as he put on his shoes. "I guess I'll see you in an hour then Jethro." He said, coming back to look at his boss, while the older man sipped his coffee and watched him impassively.

"Yeah, you will. Get outta here DiNozzo."

"There better be a raspberry donut in it for me when I get there"

"Get there on time and there just might be."

Tony hesitated, wondering if it was too soon for a hug and a goodbye kiss, or at the very least a goodbye kiss. Never before had he felt so unsure of what the next move should be. Working at NCIS had taught him to anticipate in his working life, how to read people and figure out what they wanted or needed to hear. But in his day to day life, the bleed through was far less clear. While he knew what task Gibbs would send him off on during a case, or could tell what a suspect was about to say, his relationship with Gibbs was unsteady yet, like a boat that had just sprung a leak. Yeah, you can still get across the river, but unless you plug the leak and get things running smoothly, you aren't going to get any further than that.

 _'Oh god'_ he thought, nearly groaning, _'I'm using boat metaphors, I've been hanging around with Gibbs too much... I can almost hear McGee reminding me that they're similes and I need a vacation...'_

A softer than usual smack to the back of his head brought him out of his thoughts. "Is there a problem DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, standing in front of Tony with a raised eyebrow.

"No, not at all, I was just thinking and it wasn't anything worth sharing, it won't happen again" Tony covered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Gibbs shook his head in mild disbelief.

"Oh, it will." Gibbs stated, leaning in and giving Tony a brief peck on the libs before turning him around and sending him towards the door. "Now get outta here before I change my mind and eat the raspberry donuts."

"You wouldn't!" Tony exclaimed looking over his shoulder in shock before smoothing the scandalized look into amused agreement, "okay, okay, I'm going." He laughed, opening Gibbs' door, and heading out to his car.

It was close to an hour before Tony was finished showering, changing and getting ready for the day, and by the time he made it to Monroe University Hospital, the morning rush was already in full swing. People who had gotten drunk the night before and injured themselves were now sober and realizing to what extent, among other car crash victims and various levels of abuse and accidents. Tony paid the ER no mind and walked past the non-emergency entrance, lingering just a moment as the scent of fresh blood hit his nose. He stood there, intoxicated and breathing deeply, both wanting it and knowing that he couldn't. Shaking himself out of it, he walked slowly to the elevators and pressed the up button, tuning out the beeping and whirring, the harsh fluorescent lights, and the scents that were both appealing and repugnant in order to listen to the elevator make its approach from the lower parking garage. It took him some effort, but he resisted the urge to turn and stare back towards the ER.

There were people inside of the elevator already, and one sounded very angry, while the other seemed scared. Maybe an abusive relationship? The angry one hit the wall of the elevator after the girl tried to say that something wasn't 'Dee's' fault. When the doors opened he could just smell the addiction rolling off of them both, from the girl more than the guy. She was caught in the throes of either cocaine or heroin, and he could smell it rotting her from the inside out. If the guy was using he was still early enough to not show many of the symptoms.

He stepped in and raised a hand to press the button for the third floor but dropped it again as soon as he saw that it was lit, focusing instead on keeping a straight face, instead of wrinkling his nose at the smell. Thick and acrid like a corpse in the desert, unwashed and half eaten by vultures. He swallowed hard, extremely tempted to rub his stomach in order to make a vain attempt at settling it. Instead he just used all of his willpower to keep from heaving and prayed for a quick two floors.

"Why didn't you push it?" The girl asked, looking up at him with a nearly childlike innocence.

"It was lit." He replied, not wanting to get any more involved with these people than he already was.

"Oh..." The response was quiet, and the girl rocked in place for a moment, before chewing on her fingernail, giggling softly. "I woulda pushed it anyway."

Tony held back a sigh and decided to humor her instead, assuming that she wouldn't stop pestering him anyway. "And why is that?"

"To watch it light up." There was another giggle, and she turned away from him, allowing him to lock eyes with her friend, for just a second. They shared a smile, Tony's reflexive and more amused than he should be in this situation and the man's almost menacing, obviously fed up with the girl's antics. Soft, low toned beeping began to ring through the cabin, and both males turned to look at the girl. She was amusing herself with pressing all of the elevator's buttons. This was going to be a long ride. The other man smacked her arm down and yanked her away from the buttons.

"Why don't you get her some help." Tony suggested, voice low and serious, nodding slightly towards the girl. "ER's on one."

The man looked around, amusement and a bit of disbelief showing through his dirty features. "You talkin to me?" He asked, voice low and hoarse, with just the faintest hint of an Irish accent.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you Bobby." He replied, nowhere near as thrilled as he normally would have been due to the situation. These two were definitely dangerous. Addicts always were. He hated the way the little hairs on the back of his neck raised and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

"His name is Nick." The girl interjected, pointing up at the dirty man, and distracting Tony once again.

"Shut up Bernie." Nick told her, giving her a warning look.

"But he thinks your name is Bobby." She looked over at Tony now "Don't you?"

"No." Tony replied looking at Nick once more. "He thinks his name is Bobby. Don't you?" The elevator doors dinged open and Nick began dragging Bernie out by the arm.

"You don't think your name is Bobby do you Nick?" Bernie asked, trying to keep up with Nick while looking between him and Tony as they walked towards the nurse's station.

"Shut up, can't you see he's a cop?" Nick scolded in a harsh whisper, dragging her a little faster. Tony took his time as he stepped out, savoring the fresh, albeit disinfectant tinged, air. Lingering by the pay phone, Tony heard Nick say that they were there for a man named Devon Watson, and that he had called for the drug addicted girl, Bernie, to pick him up. When they started to protest, Tony came to lean against the counter. He had been there a few times before to pick up or drop off things for the director, and had gotten friendly with the nurses up until the point where Director Shepard dropped the bomb on him that she wanted him to ask out Jeanne Benoit.

"Is there a problem here Carly?" He asked, smiling at the young nurse.

"I don't know." She looked back at the two degenerates. "Do we have a problem?"

"No, no problem" Nick ground out, forcing another tight lipped smile and explaining how 'his girl' was just worried about her brother. Tony turned his head, only half listening to the conversation as he watched Dr. Benoit come out of a room. In another universe he would have dated her in a heartbeat. Maybe even loved her. But right now she was nothing more to him than a cute doctor whose father was La Grenouille, world renowned arms dealer, and Director Shepard's own personal white whale.

He watched as she sent off the riff raff with a ten minute warning before her kind but tired gaze settled onto him. "Picking up something else for your director? Or are you dropping off this time?" Jeanne asked, perusing her files for whatever report should have been ready.

"Picking up." He thought of Jenny's plan, where he was supposed to ask Jeanne out for breakfast as well as pick up some file on a case's medical records for some other team. This had been the plan for months. Not that he had known that. But still, he wasn't doubting his choice, he adored Jethro, and nothing was going to come between them.

Jeanne had just handed him the file and smiled, as if she expected him to ask her out too. When he didn't she began to talk again. "So why did you call him Bobby?" She asked, head tilting to the side a little bit to indicate the addict and her boyfriend.

"He was doing DeNero in the elevator. 'You talkin to me? Are you talkin to me?' So I called him Bobby" She laughed and shook her head like she should have expected that answer.

"You can be so juvenile sometimes."

"Yeah but it makes me lovable." They stood there talking for a few minutes, Tony lingering due to a fresh scent of death in the air. Gibbs would have his head if he was much later, but there was something hinky going on and it made every cell in his body on edge. Whatever was about to happen it was a good idea to stay. Every one of his investigative instincts said so.

All too quickly alarms for a Code Blue sounded in the area, scrambling nurses and Jeanne alike to try and save Devon Watson. Tony followed slowly, lingering in the doorway for a moment before snatching the kid's bag to try and find any information he could on what in the hell was going wrong with this kid. He pulled out an old MP3 player, followed by a plane ticket that showed him coming from Caracas, Venezuela. Immediately things clicked in his head and he brought the bag back into the kid's room.

"How did he go south so fast?" He heard Jeanne asking the nurses.

"Flew in from Caracas three hours ago. Probably body packing heroin, bags must have burst." He could tell by the scent in the air that they had, and it wasn't going to end well. If he had mentioned it before there was a good chance he would have been leaving the hospital in a wheelchair instead of the mortician's van.

Already late to work, he decided to stick around for another couple minutes and make sure everything stayed calm with the drug addict and the probable dealer. She was in bad need of a fix, even from across the room he could tell that the kid was toast. Unlike the fetid odor of the long dead and the long dying, the recent and unexpected deaths had a sweeter overtone to them, the enzymes that broke their food up into sugars were still working, but only on more of the tissues than they were supposed to without the body's activity to keep it in place. You weren't supposed to drink blood from a dead body and unless he was starving he rarely considered it, but the urges to were never greater than when that dead body smelled so good. He preferred them gruesome for just that reason.

He'd need to feed tonight or tomorrow. He had been neglecting his health for too long and he was still feeling drained. Though with the mark on his neck he was loathe to actually boost his healing factor again...

He had just said his goodbyes and walked away when Jeanne slipped into the elevator with him and told him about Bernie and Nick trying to make their way to the morgue. The junkie and her dealer friend sure were persistent. Their need to get back the shipment, even though it was tainted with the gastric acid of their friend-slash-brother's digestive tract made Tony's stomach twist into a knot and his nose nearly wrinkle. He couldn't fathom someone being _that_ desperate for a fix.

He let Jeanne lead the way up until they drew close to the morgue where he protectively slid in front of her, drawing his gun and miming for her to be silent. He crouched without a word and got in position to kick the door open and call for a surrender when Nick crashed the door backwards with a kick of his own, stunning Tony for just a moment. That moment was all that was required for Nick to reach around the door and grab Tony's gun from his hand and point it at him, finger on the trigger.

"All right, get inside, the both of ya. And no funny business." He sneered, moving for them to pass. Tony hesitated as he did, noticing for the first time what the scent of drug rot had covered up and distracted him from.

The way the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The way he smelled so subtly of power that no human would be able to grasp what it was. The power that made them want to flee in terror or fight the imagined shadows running around them ready to strike. It was a primal instinct that awakened at the subtle abnormalities about this man he had been too preoccupied to notice before. The slight tinge of red around his irises, the way his eye teeth were a bit longer than they should be, the faint point his fingernails were at.

The man in front of him was a vampire.

And he was royally fucked.

"How nice of you to join us. The good doctor and the cop. You," he gestured to Jeanne briefly with the pistol, before pointing it back at Tony, knowing he was the bigger threat, "call off security and don't play the 'I didn't call them' game with me, I know you'd be lyin."

*\\*\\*\\*\\*\\*

In a private jet that was coming in on the final approach, two men sat discussing some photographs. A bald man holding the photographs and a well dressed man holding a cigar sat on the leather seats observing the ones put into his lap.

"This is Anthony DiNozzo. I have it on good authority that he is under orders to ask out Jeanne today." The bald man stated, handing over the first photograph, a security photo of Tony at the hospital leaning on the counter of the nurse's station to flirt with Jeanne. They're both smiling, Tony a bit too wide and Jeanne like she can't believe what kind of lines he is using on her.

"And what do you think?" The man with the cigar asked, carefully examining the NCIS agent in the photograph.

"He has had many partners, of both sexes, though he brags about the men as if they were women." This series of photos were private investigator photos of Tony's various flings, all with that same too wide smile. "He never lets himself get attached, and although he never intentionally harms his partners, the road to hell is often paved with good intentions." The bald man reported, as his employer picked up a glass of wine from its secured spot and sipped at it with a frown.

"What else?"

"He's apt to take the misfortunes of others close to him as things he could have prevented. Criticism gets taken to heart when it's from someone he trusts, and overall, he's a bit of a white hat."

"Well..." The well dressed man mused, setting his wine glass back down and picking up his own hat, carefully placing it on his head. "I happen to like white hats."

"Yes... But do not worry. I have a plan that will keep young Anthony away from your daughter."

 


	16. Here's Daddy

"I said call off security." Nick growled, gun still pointed at Tony, who was now turned around and pressed against the wall of coolers, having just been searched. Jeanne looked at them, eyes probing as they swept across Nick's face and locked onto his own eyes, trying to find a shred of humanity in the man's icy orbs-.

"Please, you haven't done anything that can't be forgotten." She said at last, pleading not out of desperation for her life or Tony's but to try and stop Bernie from being scarred from seeing her brother's body split open in search of the drugs.

"Do what he says Dr. Benoit." Tony insisted, tilting his head ever so slightly to look over at her.

"Why?" She asked, almost defiant, gazing at Tony for just a second before turning her eyes back onto Nick and Bernie. "They can leave now and we'll forget this ever happened."

"Would you do that?" Nick cooed, accent masking the sarcasm and viciousness in his tone.

"Yes. We would." Jeanne answered without a second thought. The man grinned, looking for the world like he was going to put down his gun and surrender, when he spun on his heel and knocked the butt of it into the back of Tony's skull, sending him crashing into the coolers and once again thanking the heavens that he was not human. The way the man had hit him, a human's head would have been cracked open like an egg. As it was, stars bloomed in front of his eyes and his vision swam. A second hit, quicker than Jeanne could blink, sent him sprawling to the side, groaning as first he, then his head, hit the tile floor.

Nick grinned, too many sharply pointed teeth and aggression, pointing the gun at the doctor. "Will you forget now?" he asked, grinning even wider at the tight lipped look of horror on Jeanne's face "That's what I thought. Call off Security."

Tony's head swam and his vision blurred a bit, thoughts rebelliously fluttering to the donuts he sure as hell wasn't getting today. Gibbs was going to be so goddamn pissed at him for getting hurt once again. Jeanne's voice slid though his thoughts once more, instantly making him as alert as he could be while still being so dazed.

"If that's not good enough, then shoot me." He pushed himself up, ready to try and spring into action, thoughts of Kate fluttering through his head, bringing visions of her lying dead from Ari's shot. But the shot never came, and Jeanne was next to him again, bringing the scent of fresh blood and a strong, pounding heartbeat. He let himself settle back on the floor for the moment, while she checked his eyes with a flashlight. "Tony? Can you get up?"

"No. I'm up." He said, not wanting her to fuss at him any more than she already was and hoping that his healing knocked the inevitable concussion down before she noticed it. He pushed himself back onto his elbows, then forced himself to sit up, leaning against the wall for support.

"I don't see any signs of concussion…." She told him, and he thanked whatever gods there were for that bit of news. He forced a grin.

"I've been hit harder by my sister." He announced thinking of how Mo in particular could really pack a wallop, though Ami was nothing to be messed with either. They weren't his real family of course, but he was at the club often enough that he was starting to think of them as family. And then of course, Abby and Kate had also made the cut into the family zone. Kate had hit harder than the vampires at times, but she knew just how to hit to strike you down effectively, being Secret Service and all.

"You don't have a sister." She replied momentarily looking worried again.

"I don't?" He grinned some, waving her off as if to say 'ah well, details, details' and she shook her head and rolled her eyes before a voice brought them back to reality and the gravity of the situation.

"Enough playing, doctor." Nick growled and Jeanne obediently got up and went to Devon's body. Tony sat and waited for his opportunity to attack the vampire, which came when Jeanne, beautiful, smart Jeanne, stabbed Nick in the shoulder with the scalpel after opening the boy's intestines and popping the heroin bags even more than they had been, spreading the powder across Devon's abdomen and into his abdominal cavity.

The gun went skittering across the floor and even though it made his head pound he got to it first, rolling over and firing a shot that narrowly missed the Irishman's head.

"The next one goes in your ear..." he growled, nearly panting from the way his vision nearly blurred at the edges, though he knew he could easily still keep his word. Knowing he was beat, Nick dropped the scalpel, sending it clattering to the floor, and allowing Jeanne to kick it away. After Tony got to his feet, there was a small snuffling. The three of them simultaneously turned their heads, and a knot of revulsion twisted in Tony's stomach. To think that someone could be that desperate for a fix that they'd snort heroin out of their sibling's intestine… to think that one day _he_ could be that desperate for blood… was almost too much to bear. Before he could even compose himself a soft "Oh God…" slipped out, and Jeanne quickly went to the phone to call security, while Nick grinned to himself at the little monster he'd created.

As they waited for security to arrive, Jeanne checked on Bernie. "Her vitals are stable," She announced quietly, as if the vampire that brought her in actually cared. To him she was just a plaything, something to amuse himself with until his toy finally broke. "For now anyways…"

The security team arrived, followed shortly by the police, and each time Tony gave his statement, and Jeanne gave hers, followed by an update on Bernie's status. Both the security personnel and the local police agreed that the addict's statement of events would be useless until she had dried out a bit, but promised to keep her near a medic in case of an event brought on by the unknown amount of heroin mixed with her brother's various bodily fluids.

Tony walked Jeanne out of the hospital, and all the while she tried to persuade him to stay. "He hit you pretty hard, you should really have a full work up to rule out the possibility of a concussion. Sometimes the symptoms show up hours later." She insisted, and he just shook his head.

"Nah, I'm already late for work and my boss'll have kittens if I don't show up soon. He's one of those hard ass types. I'd hate to get on his bad side." He waved off the concern with one of his charming smiles, walking over to his car and opening the door. Jeanne sighed and went to wait by the curb, while he sat in the driver's seat, quickly dialing Gibbs' phone. It went to voicemail, meaning his boss was likely busy with something important.

"Hey Jethro…" He started, nearly sheepish. "I know you're pissed that I didn't show up on time, but in my defense I ran into a situation at the hospital picking up that file for our darling Director. A drug dealer's mule died and the dealer brought the mule's junkie kid sister and wound up taking me and a doctor hostage for a few hours. I'm fine, nobody's dead, I should be there soon." He paused, wondering how to end his message and being momentarily distracted by a limo pulling up in front of his car. "Just do me a favor when I get in and don't head slap me too hard okay? I got knocked around a bit. Nothing serious, just a headache, so don't worry. Hopefully you know how to check this and will feel bad for me before I get there. Gonna start driving here in a minute so I'll stop rambling at you. Bye."

Tony hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat as a feminine hand appeared on the frame of his car door. He knew who it was before he looked up, he had been around that steady pulse and the adrenaline laced scent for over an hour now, and although her mothering was sweet, all he really wanted to do was stop for a quick drink, just a sip or two to clear his headache, and then go in to work. As he finally looked up at her he swore he was forgetting something important, but between the adrenaline rush and the slightly scrambled brains, he couldn't remember what in the world it was.

"So when my father heard about what went on and all that you did to help, he wanted to thank you in person." Her voice was, if possible, even more excited than it had been once the initial need to be professional wore off, yet the hormones producing the adrenaline from the hostage situation as well as the the elation from escaping with them both relatively unharmed were still flooding her system

"I don't really think I should Dr. Benoit… I'm late enough as it is." His defense was weak, and they both knew it. No sane boss would expect anyone in immediately after being taken hostage by a drug dealer. Gibbs wasn't exactly sane, but Tony hoped that he would understand anyways.

"Just five minutes. Please? Papa won't take no for an answer." Tony sighed, stepping out of the car and locking it once the door was shut.

"I can see where you get it from then," he teased, and though she giggled, his teasing fell a little flat to his ears, but he chalked it up to tiredness and thirst. He followed her into the limo and sat across from her father. But when his eyes met the man's everything in his brain paused, before clicking into place. He knew what he was forgetting. He knew what had been causing the little warning bells in the back of his head. He knew, undoubtedly, that he had just stepped into a huge, steaming pile of shit.

He knew that Jeanne's father was La Grenouille. He knew he was sitting across from one of the most wanted arms dealers NCIS had. He knew he was unarmed and without his phone. He knew he would be royally fucked if The Frog figured out who he was. And most importantly, he knew that if something happened here, Gibbs would never forgive him.

"Ah Tony," La Grenouille smiled, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture, cigar dangling from between two fingers, but as of yet unlit. "Jeanne told me what you did for her, I want to let you know you have my sincerest gratitude for protecting my daughter today." He grabbed Tony by the head and planted a kiss on each cheek, the standard European greeting, though no less comforting to the vampire.

"It's no problem Mr. Benoit…" Tony muttered, settling back into the seat and waiting to see what was going to happen.

"Rene, please."

"Of course…Rene. But I really should be going. I have work and…"

"Bah. Nonsense. You just performed an act of heroism. I need to buy you breakfast."

"Yes, and I want to have you under observation for just a little longer because of those injuries. You were pretty out of it for a while." Jeanne interjected, beaming first at him, then at her father.

"So then it's settled. You'll join us for breakfast and if my daughter says you are still fine, then you can be off to work just like that." Rene clapped his hands together once, as if that settled the matter. Tony still hesitated. He knew the Director would want to see how deep this rabbit hole went, but Gibbs… Gibbs would hate how he was putting himself in danger like this, with no backup. With no plan. With no mention of how he was even doing this in the first place.

Tony set his hand on the handle to leave the limo. "I suppose I could follow you there. I am parked in a two hour only spot. They're brutal here…"

"It's true…" Jeanne admitted, obviously unwilling to let Tony leave, but not wanting him to get towed either. "They are murder."

"Then I can have Henri take the car. If Jeanne is uncertain about your health, I would hate to lose you because of a blackout." Tony sighed, and sensing no way out of it he reluctantly pulled out his keys. "I promise he will take as good of care of your car as you did of my daughter."

He hoped that this wouldn't end with him in some cement shoes in the bottom of a river. But with an arms dealer as dangerous as La Grenouille, he couldn't doubt that the stereotypical gangster end, if not something more horrific, would be a possibility.

As his car started and the limo started moving, Tony couldn't help the feeling of dread pooling in his stomach.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this marks the end of the prewritten chapters. I will continue to work on this story, but I have been running into the 'Takumi can't write chronologically' problem. Which is a mixed blessing because on one hand I have a major twist planned and mostly written, but on the other hand that won't be coming for another several chapters.


	17. Bada Bing, Bada BOOM

Gibbs stalked into the office, box of doughnuts in one hand, a sense of dread pooling low in his stomach. McGee and Ziva were already there, and both blinked up from their computer screens, confused when he was the one that came around the corner.

  
“Tony's not with you?” Ziva asked, as always straight to the point and without formalities; at the same time as McGee gave a 'Morning boss'.

 

“Why would he be?” Gibbs replied, nodding his head towards McGee in greeting. Ziva looked momentarily thrown.

 

“Because.... he is not here with us? And he would be late if he was not with you?” She answered, as if the answer to that question would be obvious. Tony always made it in before Gibbs. Lest he face the wrath of their boss. If he wasn't, surely something must be wrong.

 

“He's running an errand for the director.” Gibbs informed, walking over to Tony's desk and opening the top leftmost drawer. He didn't miss, though also didn't acknowledge, the look that McGee and Ziva shared over their computer monitors. He set a napkin in the drawer, then carefully fished out a raspberry filled doughnut out of the box. After he set the treat on the napkin, he gingerly closed the drawer, before setting the box in front of first Ziva, then McGee, before taking it to his own desk and calling Abby and Ducky.

 

While he had indeed told Tony an hour, he knew that the director could have errands that lasted all morning, and he remembered how much Tony craved those little signs of approval from him. This was, of course, the best he could do at work, but saving one of his favorite doughnuts for him was the least he could do. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong with today.

 

*/*/*

 

Nearly two and a half hours later Gibbs stalked up the stairs to visit the director, wondering what the hell kind of errand she had sent his second in command on. Only expecting the conversation to take a minute, and knowing he had two very capable field agents that could answer their own damn phones if they got a case, he jogged up the stairs, easily taking them two at a time.

 

Ziva and McGee shared a look, the unease that had been following Gibbs all day putting them on edge as well. “He certainly seems...” McGee started, nodding up towards the hall that Gibbs disappeared down. Although he wasn't able to put a word to how Gibbs was acting, Ziva nodded her head in understanding.

  
“Yes. It's as if he's waiting for the other sock to drop.” Ziva agreed

  
“Shoe.” McGee corrected, looking back at his computer screen.

 

“Where would I go?” Tim blinked once, then looked back up at her; trying to place the sudden change in topic, before answering.

 

“No, not shoo as in go away, shoe as in waiting for the other shoe to drop.” McGee explained returning to his typing.

 

“Where would a shoe be dropping from McGee?” Ziva asked, frowning slightly and folding her hands on top of her desk.  
  
“Where would a sock drop from?” McGee countered, raising an eyebrow back at her.

 

“Touché” Ziva admitted, eyebrows knit together as the cell phone on Gibbs' desk started ringing. McGee looked up at the hallway where Gibbs would appear from, then back at his boss' desk.

 

“Should we...?” He started, gesturing over at the phone lamely. Ziva stood and also glanced up at the direction their boss had left in.

 

“No. He would certainly murder us if we answered his phone.” She insisted, standing and looking around the bullpen for any sign of Gibbs' return. She lowered her voice and took a tentative step towards his desk and the phone ringing on it. “But a little peek, to see who is calling, couldn't hurt.”

 

Both she and McGee crowded around Gibbs' desk, trying to look at the tiny screen on the top of his ancient flip phone. “It's not saying who's calling.” McGee said, the barest of frowns on his face.

 

“Well if it is important,” Ziva said, as the phone stopped ringing, “We will likely get calls shortly, or they will call back.” A tense minute passed, then another, before McGee and Ziva stepped back to their desks.

 

“Must have been personal.” McGee mused. “Though really who...” he stopped himself suddenly at Ziva's sharp shake of the head, looking around, wide eyed. He turned to face the stairway, with Gibbs storming down it, the Director hot on his heels.

 

“McGee!” she called, voice sharp and near enough to a shout that he could identify that there was some sort of concealed emotion, but he was unable to place exactly which one. “Triangulate DiNozzo's cell number. Lets see where he is.” McGee quickly nodded, whipping around and tapping quickly on his keyboard. “This morning DiNozzo was sent to Monroe University Hospital in order to pick up a confidential file for me. International Arms Dealer, Rene Benoit, has a daughter that works there, and he just flew in last night.”  
  
As McGee pulled the map feed onto the plasma, Gibbs took over the explanation, grabbing his phone from his desk and sticking it into his pocket without a glance. “Local LEOs just called in that DiNozzo and Jeanne Benoit were just involved in a hostage situation at the hospital.”  
  
“Get satellite feed McGee. And transfer it into MTAC. I had also received word that La Grenouille would be picking his daughter up for brunch after being out of the country for so long.” The sudden, but subtle, shift in Gibbs' jaw as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched in an effort to bite his tongue and not grind his teeth alerted the rest of the team to the reason that Gibbs was so pissed. Tony had been set up, and now, he was in danger.

 

“Tony's car is moving!” McGee called out from in front of a computer in MTAC as everyone settled their headsets securely on their heads.

 

“Sat feed?” Jenny replied, watching the path that the car was taking and trying to figure out a possible destination.

 

“Still fifteen minutes.” McGee answered, before beginning to tap at the keys in front of him again “But I could hack into DC's traffic cam system and... aha!” All at once the overhead map view turned into an isometric 3D real time video feed. Granted it was a bit grainy and out of focus but they could clearly see Tony's car with a man behind the wheel.

 

“He's going the speed limit...” Ziva remarked.  
  
“Not running any red lights either.” McGee observed, nodding to himself.

 

“This is a good sign. Any idea of a destination yet?” Jenny asked, looking back up at the feed.

 

They were all watching Tony's car round a corner when an explosion filled the screen.

 

*/*/*  
  
Gibbs felt his mouth dry and his heart drag his stomach down to his toes at the explosion. He felt a burning on his hand and realized that he had squished his coffee cup and the scalding liquid was on him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Every reaction, every action, everything felt like he was viewing it from the other side of the glass in interrogation. Schooling his features into a blank mask of calm, he began walking towards the door. As long as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other it would be okay.

 

“Five minutes.” He said, throwing the ruined cup into the trash. “McGee, tell Abby. Ziva, Ducky.” He instructed, walking out. The door hadn't fully shut behind him before he had his phone out, dialing in Tony's number without looking. He pressed the button for the elevator. His call went straight to voicemail.

 

Angrily, he pressed the end key, feeling much more satisfied at jabbing the keys than he would have if he had snapped the phone shut. An alert for a new voice message flashed on the screen, and Gibbs selected it. If anything it'd keep his mind busy.

  
The elevator doors dinged open. He stepped inside. The doors shut and the message began to play. With a shaking hand, he flicked the emergency stop switch on the elevator panel. Because he recognized that number. Tony's number. His Tony. His Tony he may never see again. His Tony he broke all of his rules for. His Tony who thought that he could actually be mad at him over Jenny's stupid meddling....His Tony who by every logical reason was blown up.

 

He listened to the message twice, head against the wall, just savoring the sound of his voice, the way Tony said his name.... the way he sounded tired, but still full of life... After replaying it a third time, he carefully saved it. It may be the last thing Tony ever said to him and he didn't want to lose it.

 

He closed his phone and slid it into his pocket before slamming the side of his fist against the wall angrily. It wasn't goddamn fair. He had just gotten Tony... was just starting to learn that there was far more to the man than anyone else had ever likely given him credit for previously. Tony was something special. Tony brought out something in him he hadn't seen since he was young... Something that made him say 'to hell with the consequences'. Something that caused him to break his rules left and right and forgive Tony for breaking them just as often. He had broken rule 8 most recently. He had taken what he had with Tony for granted. Taken him for granted as his partner, and taken him for granted as a boyfriend... a lover... let himself be selfish.

 

Didn't give him a damn doughnut this morning.

 

He had been unreachable and missed what could have been his last chance to talk to Tony. He hadn't been there to protect him and he had been so good... All of that good is wasted if Tony was dead. He was dating a co-worker. And now, he was going to get personally involved in a case. One that he wasn't too sure he could just walk away from once it was over.

 

But the five minutes was nearly up and he had a job to do. He still had rules he could uphold. He didn't have to believe what he was being told about Tony being dead. He could double check. He could gather evidence and keep checking it and re checking it until he got the answers he wanted. There was no such thing as coincidence, and even though he was likely being played, the whole agency was likely being played, he had to follow this through to the end.

 

Carefully schooling his face back into that marine calm mask, blank and even, he straightened his back and unclenched his fists. Taking a breath he closed his eyes, allowing himself to force relaxation into his limbs. When his eyes opened and he released the breath he had been holding, flicking the elevator back on. The doors opened and there was the whole team with their gear and looking somber.

 

*/*/*  
  
The whole team worked on autopilot as they photographed and gathered evidence from Tony's car. Jenny even appeared at the crime scene, in the same NCIS jacket she had acquired back when she was a field agent. Gibbs stood as far away from her as he could without it seeming openly hostile. He blamed her for this. If Tony hadn't been running her errand, nobody would have been able to strap a bomb to his car here. Nobody would have been able to blow him up. Everyone at NCIS would be able to sense Gibbs' blame and hostility, but none of the looky-loos and local LEOs would be able to.

 

After the body was extracted and Gibbs followed it to Ducky's Medical Examiner van, the old man patted his shoulder.

 

“Hang in there my boy...” instructed Dr. Mallard, “I'll run some tests, see what the evidence says hmm?” Gibbs knew Ducky was just trying to give him some hope. However, whatever hope there was, was incredibly slim and they both knew it.

 

Back at NCIS, Abby was taking it the worst out of the whole team, at least outwardly. Now that her machines were working, Abby was near tears and clinging to him, practically begging him to tell her that Tony wasn't dead. He didn't say anything. _Coudln't_ say anything. He just squeezed her tighter and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. If he were the praying type, he'd be praying that Abby's machines showed some evidence that gave them hope. So far, any evidence turned up confirming the worst. He eventually pulled away from her and patted her head, offering a tight lipped half smile, before turning and heading back up stairs. 

 

It was midafternoon before Ducky came up to the bullpen, grinning wildly. “His lungs aren't scarred!” Ducky exclaimed, grinning at Gibbs. “It's not Tony! After his bout of Y Pestis, Tony's lungs would have been severely scarred. But the man on my table has almost pristine lungs. Thus, it's not Tony.” A wave of relief washed across the team, visually sinking shoulders and removing the rods from spines.

 

“That's great Duck... Nice work.” Gibbs said, clapping the older man on the shoulder. There was only one question left. Where in the hell was Tony?

 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

 

Standing there, in the doorway to the elevator was a very exhausted looking Tony. He rested his arm across the elevator door, so he didn't have to worry about it closing on him, while he waited for the rest of the team to get over their shock. He settled his head against his arm, grinning at them while they stood and stared.

 

Gibbs was, of course, the first to begin moving, still tense with that practiced look of calm on his face. Long, even strides took the man to the elevator quickly, but without a sense of rushing. Gibbs placed a hand on Tony's chest, lightly pushing him back into the elevator. Once the door was shut and the elevator was stopped, Gibbs pulled Tony to his chest, one arm secure around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Tony let himself be tucked against the older man, Jethro's face pressed into his hair. As his adrenaline wore off it finally dawned on Tony just how much this must have scared him. He wrapped his arms around Jethro in return, one hand sliding up to lightly run fingers across his neck

 

“Gibbs...” He started, softly enough so that even if there were other people only the other man could hear, “Jethro... I'm okay... it's okay...” His only response was being held tighter. Which, after the day he had, and with how much his head was hurting, he was completely okay with that.


	18. Fuzzy

The remainder of the day followed in little snapshots for Tony. Explaining how Rene Benoit knew who he was to the Director, and how he had managed to not be blown up. Getting checked out by Ducky, and told that rest was in order. Squeezed by Abby so tightly he thought his lungs would burst and his back would break. But there were also the longer moments, small cinematic scenes that filled his heart with warmth. Most of which, coincidentally, surrounded Gibbs.

 

Gibbs holding him tightly in the elevator, as if assuring himself that Tony was really alright, really alive. That he hadn't lost someone he cared for again. The slow kiss they shared, deep and meaningful, and still oh so slow. The pressing heat of lips, the slick slide of tongues tracing every ridge and tooth, the soft intermingling of breath. Both knew that it wasn't able to go farther, but still taking comfort in the touch, the simplicity, the shared sensation. When Gibbs had brushed a thumb over the mark he had made the night before, and Tony had bitten back a moan, they both knew that that had to be the end of it, lest they go too far and get caught.

 

Tony going into his drawer after the meeting with the Director and being checked out by Ducky to look for his mirror and comb, only to find the doughnut sitting in his drawer, waiting for him. He had given up on the idea of getting one once he had been taken hostage by the vampire, Nick. He had paused, a soft smile pulling his lips, as he carefully picked up the sugary treat. “Is this raspberry?” He asked, looking around for the source of the treat “Who brought these in?” Tony was playing dumb, not wanting to have to explain how he knew that Gibbs brought doughnuts. He followed the looks from the rest of his team over to Gibbs where he flashed the man a genuine smile. “Why boss, I'm touched. I didn't know you cared...” He was so thankful that Gibbs had thought of him that as he ate it, he kept the obscene noises to a minimum. He didn't want to insure that such a sweet gesture never went repeated.

 

It was still fairly early, by a normal workday's standards anyways, when they were told to go home. Tony obediently went home and sat on the couch. The throbbing in his head was terrible, and even though he had taken some ibuprofen at work it was still awful. Which left him with a conundrum. He could have some blood, which would kill the headache for sure but also cause him to heal up the nice mark Gibbs had left on him, or he could suffer through it and be miserable, but keep the mark a little longer. He bit his lip, closing his eyes and leaning back on the couch, hoping the darkness and quiet would help. Only the action magnified the pulsing in his head as he became aware of it thudding with every beat of his heart. One minute turned to five, and five to ten, and still, his head kept throbbing. Sighing and slowly sitting back up, he resigned himself to just a few sips. Just enough to take the edge off.

 

He stood and padded to the fridge, fishing a blood packet out of a container of juice boxes. He slowly pulled at the snap keeping the packet closed. Normally he would just cut the edge so he could pour the blood into a glass and warm it. But as he was only having a little, none of that would be necessary he clasp, and lifted the opening to his lips. One sip turned into two. The two sips turned into a whole mouthful. He then pulled it away from his lips and resealed the bag with the little plastic clasp. He licked his lips, ignoring the fact that the blood was cold and tasted faintly of latex. Instead he focused on how much better he immediately felt. Whether that was a placebo or not, he wasn't sure.

 

With his headache mostly gone, Tony went to his room and got changed. No longer was he wearing the nice clothes he had been wearing to work. Instead he was wearing track pants and a simple t-shirt. He waited on his bed, in the quiet for another ten minutes, but still he couldn't sleep. He could hear his neighbors making noise. Upstairs, downstairs, on each side. Nothing outside the realm of normal human activity, but still enough to make his head ache with a vengeance. He growled to himself and rolled over in his bed, trying to will himself to sleep, knowing he'd feel better once he did.

 

As sleep continued to evade him, thoughts of where he'd rather be began to invade his head. A quiet house with comfortable furniture. One with only a single other occupant to make noise. A single occupant who hated to make noise without reason. One who liked to have the occasional drink, and tended to remain sequestered in his basement. One who, at one point or another, had given him a standing invitation to drop by if he ever needed anything.

 

Sighing, he drug himself out of bed, and found his socks and shoes. Hopefully his presence wouldn't be unwelcome, especially with how shaken up Gibbs had been after the older man had thought that he had died. Grabbing his keys he turned off the light, locked is door, and left the complex. Although his car had been blown up, he had managed to get a rental delivered to the navy yard before he had to leave, and was set up to keep it until he had bought a new car.

 

The drive to Gibbs' house was uneventful, and he was relieved to find that there were lights on in the other man's home once he arrived. As he walked up to the door he noticed that everything he could see through the window, admittedly not much, seemed unoccupied. He wasn't picking up any signs of the other man breathing in the living room, and from his knowledge of how the older man spent his nights, he was betting that Gibbs was in the basement working on his boat.

 

He tried the door, and, like usual, it was unlocked so he walked inside, closing it behind him as he kicked off his shoes. “Jethro?” he called, trying to find the source of any kind of activity in the house by sound alone.

 

“Basement” Came the gruff reply, almost immediately after he pinpointed the soft sounds. He really should have expected it, or at least thought to turn his attention to the floor beneath him first. Tony kicked off his shoes and padded down the stairs to the basement, standing on the landing for a few moments to watch him work.

 

“I hope you don't mind...” He started, offering a sheepish smile, “I've still got a killer headache and all of my neighbors were being way too noisy.” Gibbs gave a small grunt in reply and focused his attention back on the boat. Tony sat on the landing, feet following the last few steps down into the basement, before leaning against the steps heading back upstairs. He propped his head up on his arm and began watching the other man work.

 

Even while Jethro sanded and planed, tension seemed to roll off of him in waves. The jar that he used as a glass was nearly empty of the bourbon he had poured in it, the last swallow still remaining as the jar sat on Gibbs' workbench. He wanted to ask if Gibbs was okay, but he knew the answer, at best, would probably be a terse 'fine' and at worst earn him a glare or a headslap. From experience, he knew the best choice of action would be to just wait and if Gibbs wanted to talk, he'd talk. The scraping sounds from Gibbs working was rhythmic, and although louder than he'd like, soothing. Tony alternated between watching him work and closing his eyes and just listening. Before he realized it, he was fast asleep.

 

It took a lot of time for Jethro to notice that Tony had fallen asleep, mostly because he was used to the quiet, and when Tony was over he normally was chatty, so his brain filed it away and dismissed the knowledge of Tony being there in favor of completely immersing him in his work. When he did notice, he decided that it was late enough and probably time for them both to go to sleep. As quietly as he could, he put away his tools, and dusted himself off, before finishing his last swallow of bourbon and replacing the jar. Then, very carefully, he picked Tony up, cradling the other man to his chest. One arm was tucked under his knees, while the other supported his back and shoulders, keeping Tony nestled against him. Slowly he made his way up the basement stairs, then up to the second floor, before coming to a stop in the master bedroom.

 

With an almost practiced ease, Gibbs peeled back the covers without jostling Tony, before setting him in the bed. There was a soft murmur from Tony when he was removed from the warmth of Jethro's chest, but otherwise the man did not stir. Gibbs slid in behind him and pulled the blankets around them both, wrapping an arm around Tony and bringing the other male more snugly against him. Laying there in the darkness, he could hear Tony's soft breathing, nothing more than gentle puffs of air. He placed his palm against Tony's chest, closing his eyes and focusing to feel his agent's heartbeat. It was there, and steady, and reassuring. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Tony's head, letting it linger. With Tony still asleep there was nothing stopping him from reassuring himself of the other man's vitality. Jethro stayed still for a few minutes more, before allowing his head to drop onto the pillow more comfortably. Jethro stayed awake and comfortable for some time, until all at once he dropped off to sleep, dreams remaining pleasant and warm, though overwhelmingly unremarkable. One of his last thoughts before he drifted off again was how relaxing it was to have someone with him who understood who he was and was okay with it. He knew, from past experience, the honeymoon phase of their relationship would wear off, but he couldn't help but hope that Tony would stick around after it did.

 

Tony woke up slowly, initially confused about why he wasn't sore, and why he was very, comfortably, warm. As feeling came back into the rest of his body he noticed he was in a bed. If the memory from the previous morning was anything to go by he was in Gibbs' bed. Finer senses started to come into focus, primarily the way Gibbs was holding him close, gently gliding fingers over him as carefully as Gibbs would the boat. Checking over his scalp, lightly brushing against the already healing lump from the day before. Still, it caused a throbbing in his head that caused him to pull away slightly.

 

“Hurts?” Came a quiet voice, still seemingly hesitant to wake him if he was still asleep.

 

“Some. 'S fine.” He placed his head back where it was, and Gibbs' hand trailed down over his neck, sliding past his shoulder and side, settling across his waist, pulling him closer. Tony let out a contented sigh, closing his eyes again. “You let me stay...”

 

“'Course I did DiNozzo. You're always welcome here. You know that.” Tony ran his fingers lightly over the back of Gibbs' hand, humming softly.

 

“Careful... you might never get rid of me talking like that.” There was a soft chuckle behind him and Tony couldn't help a smile. They settled into silence again, and in the stillness and quiet, Tony dozed off again.


	19. Tequila Sunrise

When Tony next woke up, feeling much more rested than the previous awakening, he had rolled over, and was now tucked beneath Gibbs' arm. Gibbs was sitting up slightly, with his glasses on, reading the paper. Tony couldn't help but chuckle at how domestic this all was. He tilted his head back to look up at Gibbs, who had a raised eyebrow behind his glasses as he folded up the paper, setting it on the nightstand. 

“Somethin' funny Tony?” He asked, resting his hand back over Tony's waist. 

“Just thinking about how domestic this is. It's almost like we're married.” Tony admitted, grinning now. 

“Nah. Not enough fighting.” Gibbs was smiling too, and Tony reached up, cupping Gibbs' cheek lightly. 

“You should smile more. It makes you look so much better.” Tony brushed his thumb across Gibbs' lip lightly, tracing the curve of his smile. 

“I smile plenty Tony.” 

“Not at work.” Tony's near pout was matched by an over the glasses incredulous stare, with Gibbs' eyebrow returning to it's raised position. 

“Not supposed to at work.” Tony sighed at that response. They both knew Gibbs occasionally smiled at work, whether it was an act for an interrogation, or because someone had been legitimately amusing. Tony wasn't about to admit that he could count the number of times on one hand that the aforementioned smile was aimed at him, and that was his whole point. He wanted Gibbs to smile more at him, everyone else be damned. 

Instead of pushing it further, he just shrugged and shifted so he could press his ear to Gibbs' chest, reveling in the strong, steady heartbeat thrumming in the older man's rib cage. Closing his eyes, he pushed past the instincts that heard a pulse as a meal, and tried to focus back on his past. Back when he was a young man waiting for what was, almost aptly in his opinion, named his 'inheritance'. Back when a heartbeat was seen as a symbol of love, of safety, of comfort. Of humanity. 

Did Gibbs love him? No. Of course not. Not in the way he had loved Shannon, or Kelly, or still loved Abby. Could he, someday? Maybe, if Tony didn't fuck this all up first. If it all went pear shaped would Tony stop loving Gibbs? Never, even if he lived a million years would he stop loving Gibbs. Ami occasionally would murmur something about 'soulmates', but Tony was both too old and not old enough to believe in nonsense like that. He just knew that Gibbs was someone he didn't deserve and he was blessed to have him in his life for as long as the older man would let him be there. 

Slowly, carefully, he brought his hand up to Gibbs' chest, splaying it over ribs softly, near enough to his face that he could hear the soft puffs of air that had to first be forced with heart rate monitors that beeped at him if his pulse fell below 'normal' levels, and eventually fell into a habit, continuing even in sleep. Consciously, he matched his breathing to Jethro's, comforting himself on the shred of symmetry that the action brought him. 

The remainder of the day passed lazily like that, Gibbs reading until he had finished the paper, and Tony just relaxing, enjoying the quiet rustle of newsprint and the steady thrum of blood under his ear and fingertips. Then a light brunch, and retreating into the basement to watch Jethro work on the boat. Tony didn't bother trying to help, the mild headache surging back up if he stood for too long, and so instead he just sat and watched Gibbs work from the basement stairs. 

*/*/*

Monday morning saw the quiet laziness of the previous day out and the hectic life of a field agent back in. Almost immediately he and Ziva were called away to California to accompany the director to a funeral. 

By Tuesday night he was back in D.C., while the Director's house burned on the news. Tony's stomach had dropped, with the way Gibbs had looked at him, had ordered him to go home. The words 'before you get anyone else killed' seeming to hover on the tip of his boss' tongue, but still effortlessly conveyed by his gaze. Ziva stared at him the whole way home, but he kept silent, staring instead out the window, unsure of whether he was more upset over failing the Director by following her orders, or by failing Gibbs. 

As soon as he was dismissed for the night from NCIS, he went straight to Night Delight. While he usually didn't take advantage of their special blood-booze mixtures guaranteed to get a vampire drunk, tonight every plan in his head was to get as fucked up as inhumanly possible, and stay that way until they physically forced his ass to sober up and come crawling back into work. Maybe Ami would take pity on him and fake his death, claim he just wandered away somewhere in a bout of drunken idiocy. Find a dead body that, after a few weeks in the river, would match his general appearance, then, before the story broke, have it cremated. Let him hide somewhere and stay drunk and forget that he could seemingly do nothing more than fuck up. 

When he arrived at the club, the music was already blaring, and Mo and Kay were standing idly near the door. The smaller of the pair looked him over, let out a low whistle, and then moved to allow him entrance. Inside, the club was in full party mode, and Tony moved past humans and vampires alike towards the VIP lounge. Matt was sitting near it, at a small round table. His bad leg was straight, ankle resting against the table's leg, while his good one was tucked against the stool he sat on. 

“Bad day?” He asked as Tony approached him. Tony just snorted and shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “Wanna talk about it?” The younger cop's eyes darted up then, panicked, before stopping midway up Matt's chest. 

“No. No talking. No thinking. Just booze. Lots of booze.” Matt smiled sympathetically and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I've been there. Go on then. Get comfortable. Change your mind about talking and I'll be here.” Tony nodded his thanks, and went up the small set of stairs into the lounge, picking a booth in the back corner and settling in. He typed in his order and before too long a bottle of what was formerly tequila. In the roving lights of the club, he could see that the formerly amber liquid was now a deep sunset red, as the liquor had fully melded with the blood. This was the easiest way for his kind to get drunk, as the blood helped the liquor metabolize into his bloodstream. He forwent the glass, pulling the bottle from the bucket of ice and raising it in a mock salute to his waitress, before taking a long drink, forcing himself to swallow it like he would a beer in spite of the burn. This was definitely money well spent. 

He felt the alcohol singe its way down his throat, settling hotly in his stomach. He took another drink, then another, before settling further back into the corner of the booth, closing his eyes and waiting for it to start to take effect. 

He wanted to forget. 

*/*/* 

Hours passed from the point the fire was announced, then extinguished, and Gibbs was torn. Ziva had explained, over explained really, that Tony had tried to convince her to disobey the Director's orders. Tony had had a bad feeling, but Ziva had dismissed him and tried to convince him that she was just having some fun. 

Ziva, who had seen the way Gibbs looked at Tony, and understood everything that that look had been meant to convey. Ziva, who had watched Tony sit silent for the whole five hour flight, not to mention the associated airport and driving time. Ziva, who had heard Tony give his debrief in a broken monotone. Ziva, who stood up for his boyfriend when he should have been the understanding one. 

No matter how much he had been hurting to receive the call, to hear Jenny was dead, to see the crime scene. Tony had dealt with all of that, plus the knowledge that he had dropped the ball and failed. And then Gibbs had, with less than 10 words combined with a look, rubbed his nose in it like a dog that had pissed on a rug. 

As hard as it was to admit it, he may owe Tony an apology. If the man hadn't resigned already. Even after Kate had nobody seen him silent for so long. Talking was Tony's defense mechanism, and anyone that knew him for more than ten minutes knew that. Without something to focus on, Gibbs was certain that the man found it physically impossible to be silent for more than ten minutes. To be quiet for five hours, on something as boring as a plane ride, meant that something was seriously wrong with him. 

Without meaning to, his own mind flashed back to how he felt after he lost Shannon and Kelly, how he had felt like he failed them. How he retreated into himself so completely. How the look in his eyes mirrored what he had seen in Tony's. What he had caused in Tony's. When he had gotten there, Tony had been looking for a way to make things right. He had known he screwed up, but hadn't yet given up so thoroughly. He had been looking at Jethro to tell him what to do to help, how he could repent. 

What Gibbs had given him was meant to be a slap in the face, but, after Ziva's explanation, was more than likely a knife to the stomach instead. He had to explain that he had just been reacting, not thinking about the effect that his words would have. He had to make things right somehow, and hope Tony didn't hate him too badly or reject whatever comfort they could give each other. Maybe telling him that Jenny and he had dated once would be enough of an explanation. 

He made his way to Tony's apartment and knocked on the door, but after several minutes of knocking but no signs of movement inside, Gibbs realized that Tony likely wasn't home. He turned and walked down the stairs, getting back into his car. He had one more place to check before he went home and debated having McGee track Tony's phone. 

When he showed up to the club, the nearest parking spot was over a block away, but Gibbs walked it without so much as a grumble. He approached Monique, offering Kay a small nod in greeting, and was nearly surprised when she stepped aside and motioned for him to enter, without so much as a word. He supposed that meant Tony was inside, and so he stepped inside. Giving himself a few seconds to acclimate to the change in light, Jethro pressed on, scanning the bar, then the crowd, for Tony's distinct frame. Slowly but surely he picked his way through the crowd, laying a hand on a stranger's shoulder once or twice, then making an excuse to keep going when it wasn't the man he was looking for. Eventually he made his way to where Matt was sitting.

“Agent Gibbs,” Matt greeted with a handshake, “I was wondering if you would show up tonight.” 

“I take it DiNozzo's around here then?” The older man inquired. 

“He is,” Matt paused a moment to flick through a few screens on his tablet, before humming when he finds the information he was looking for. “Upstairs actually, and since you're on his list, you're allowed to go find him if you so choose.” Matt motioned to the four stairs that would take him to the VIP lounge. 

“Thanks.” Gibbs nodded once and headed up the stairs, unsure of what state he would find his field agent in. Or if he'd find the man alone. It wasn't a stretch to make the leap from such a cruel dismissal earlier that day to a breakup. Insert a near limitless amount of strong alcohol into the equation and it could be practically guaranteed. Steeling himself and hoping that however he found Tony, they could find a way to fix themselves, he strode further into the lounge. 

As he approached the back of the lounge, he laid his eyes on the younger man's form. He was half sprawled on one of the benches, a bottle nearly three quarters of the way empty cradled in one arm. The closer he got the more he noticed the flush high on his cheeks, lips stained with something shiny and crimson, the same something that appeared to be in the bottle. Tony's free hand moved, getting a small cube of ice from the bucket, and gently sucking it between his lips, letting it hover there in a way that was borderline obscene. Gibbs stood there watching him for another minute, but before he could say something, Tony's eyes shot open, pupils wide but fixing on him immediately, as if sensing his presence. 

They focused on him, narrowed, and then Tony, almost defiantly, took another long drink from his bottle. Once he swallowed, the bottle went back to his side, an unspoken 'I'm not sharing' in the gesture. Tony closed his eyes again, licking the red from his lips this time. 

“Didn't expect to find you here Gibbs. Come to give me another dirty look for fucking up? Or this time is it for getting drunk?” 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.” The man countered, reaching for the bottle. As if expecting his movement, or maybe not having his eyes closed all the way, Tony lifted it to his lips and drained the rest, the alcohol no longer burning as much as the first couple swallows did. 

“Obviously I am. Glad you came. Go home.” The last two words were nearly slurred for how thickly they caught in Tony's throat, but the venom in them was clear as day. Gibbs nearly flinched, recalling how coldly he had spat those same words at his agent earlier that day. 

“Not without you. I...” Gibbs paused and swallowed here, nearly wishing he had a shot or two himself, to make the words come out a bit easier, “I made a mistake talking to you like that.” 

“Damn skippy. But I'm not coming home. I'm getting good and drunk and staying that way until I can find a way to resign or fake my death without looking like a coward.”

“You're coming home with me Tony, even if I have to carry you out of here myself.” Gibbs replied, pulling the bottle out of Tony's hand, then hauling the other man to his feet, though doing so slowly enough that he would be less likely to throw up had he in fact, drank the whole bottle by himself.

Tony leaned on him in spite of himself, taking a moment to just breathe in his scent. “Jesus you're bossy. And a bastard. A Ginormiously Insensitive Bossy Bastard Shithead. Gibbs.” Tony chuckled in spite of himself, “Finally figured out your name.” Jethro tried hard not to roll his eyes or take offense. It was his penance, and it was, in a way, true. 

They made it down the stairs and halfway across the club before Tony stopped and struggled back a few steps. “Wait wait wait. Just to make this clear. You may be hotter than everything, and I may be drunk, and a slut, but that doesn't mean I'm easy. There'll be no sexy shenanigans while I'm still pissed off at you. Clear?”

Gibbs couldn't help rolling his eyes this time. “Crystal DiNozzo.”

“Good. I don't need sexnanigans with someone I'm mad at ruining my buzz.”


	20. Good Morning D.C.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's been questioned, and I don't think it's been mentioned here, this is just a reminder that I'm picking and choosing which parts of canon I follow. So yes, I kept Jenny's death in there, but I may, or may not who knows, put in the agent afloat parts. I skipped Gibbs 'retiring' but I may or may not put it back later. 
> 
> But anywho, thanks so much for the comments. I'm a huge dork that keeps them all in a folder in my email to read whenever I find it hard to write. So yeah. 
> 
> Back to the story of the vampire and the jackass that loves him :P

Tony woke up tucked into a bed, shirt and pants off, folded neatly on the dresser, shoes left by the door. On the nightstand there was a bottle of aspirin, as well as a glass of water. For a moment his mind was blank, aside from the mixture of a slight hangover and the overly sharp senses of a recent feed. Ami, he thinks it was Ami anyways, had been good to him. Their blood was usually fresh anyways, but she must have gotten some directly from a feeder for his bottle.

 

As he sat up and downed some of the painkillers with a gulp of water, the memories from the night before started to trickle back to him. Gibbs pulling him out of the club, an arm wrapped around his waist when walking for more than a few steps at a time proved to be too difficult for his tequila infused body to handle without stumbling all over. Gibbs taking whatever abuse was hurled at him as they got settled in the car. Then everything feeling heavy and sleepy all at once while they were in the dark and quiet. He must have passed out then, and let Gibbs take him wherever.

 

He slowly got up and stretched, before pulling his pants back on and finally getting a good look around the room. He was definitely in Gibbs' house, though not in the master bedroom. The realization that he was in the guest room stung a bit. Logically he knew that it was probably because he was still so angry at the older man. Emotionally though, he couldn't help but wonder if it was because the older man was still mad at him.

 

The sight of the place where Jenny had died would be permanently etched into his brain. Whether it was supposed to be a bar or restaurant or whatever didn't matter to him. But there was so much blood he could _taste_ it in the air. He could _smell_ it from outside. It should have disgusted him. It just made him hungry. The part of him that knew something terrible had gone down made his stomach twist and churn and knot, but the part of him that was so primal thought that it had smelled like heaven. So much blood. 

 

That part of him made him want to throw up a little. 

 

He didn't know what he had been supposed to do. He knew what he would do if he could go back. He knew what Gibbs had wanted him to do. But Jenny....Jenny had chosen him and Ziva for a reason. She must had known that there was something else going on. If she didn't at the start, then she did when she told them to enjoy their day. She had planned, at least in some part, the way she wanted to go out. 

 

Tony just didn't expect it to be in a bathroom. 

 

Eventually he pushed open the door, and decided to venture out into the rest of the house. At full strength, after a nice feed, and with as terrible a last few days as he's had, he knew he could be rather mercurial. But it was better to bite the bullet and figure out where he stood with Jethro sooner rather than later. He ignored the fact that his pants sat too low on his hips because they were stretched out from wearing them the previous night, ignored the fact that he was shirtless in favor of not wearing the same thing he had been wearing yesterday, and just slipped down the stairs, listening intently for any signs of Gibbs. 

 

He found the older man in the kitchen, holding a mug full of coffee and staring out his kitchen window. Tony stood and waited to be acknowledged, arms crossed over his chest and back rigid. He set his jaw to keep from speaking but still working through possible scenarios in his mind. After what felt like an hour to Tony's overactive mind, but was more likely only a minute or so Gibbs finally turned towards him, setting his now empty mug on the counter. 

 

“Mornin' DiNozzo.” He remarked, calm as the morning tide. Tony frowned, eyebrows knitting together. 

 

“That's all you've got?” The brunet asked, eyes narrowing slightly. “After everything that happened yesterday, that's all you've got?” 

 

“Whaddya expect me to say DiNozzo? That whole thing was fucked up and we both know it.” Gibbs' tone was patient but with the slightest edge of frustration beginning to creep in. 

 

“Yeah it was. Which is why I don't fucking get why you blamed me out in the desert.” Tony ground out, teeth clenched between sentences. 

 

“You were her protective detail Tony! That's why you got told to go home!” There was a gesture now, but Tony wasn't focused on it, eyes narrowed on the older man's face, trying to search for any sort of understanding. Some sign that things between them would be okay before this escalated into a fight that led him to saying something colossally stupid. 

 

“She dismissed us! I kept trying to follow her! Ask Ziva!” Though angry, Tony swore he heard just the faintest tinge of desperation color his voice. The part of him that was so fucking _desperate_ for Gibbs' approval was trying to rear its ugly head again, and Tony shifted his stance to try and compensate for it. Gibbs, ever the skilled interrogator seemed to pick up on both the desperation and the reason he shifted because his voice softened again, blue eyes meeting hazel.   
  
“I did. Why do you think I came to get you?” The admission was supposed to make Tony feel better. Logically he knew that. Gibbs was admitting, in his own way, that Tony was not at fault. But right now all it did was piss him off more because it was not what he wanted to hear. Tony snarled in response, fist striking out and slamming sideways into the door frame with a resonant thud. 

 

“I don't even know why I bothered asking, Jethro. All I wanted was a fucking apology. If you talked to Ziva you knew how much this fucked me up and you still won't goddamn apologize, because your rules are all important. I get it.” Tony spun on his heel and stormed off, on his way back to the bedroom to gather up his things and go before he did something he'd regret or that would give him away. 

 

He heard the sound of someone taking the stairs two at a time, before a warm hand closed around his wrist, effectively spinning him. Anger left his instincts closer to the surface and so he wasn't too surprised when he continued to whirl, using the momentum that Gibbs gave him to slam the other man into the wall. Gibbs gave off a small gasp, or really a puff of air at having the wind knocked out of him so suddenly, which Tony took full advantage of, crashing their mouths together, tongue immediately sliding inside to plunder. 

 

It wasn't so much of a kiss as it was an attack. Tony's tongue ran over every surface, and with the force he used teeth clacked together, lips surely to be bruised and swollen by the time he pulled away for longer than to bite at Gibbs' lips and take a proper breath before diving back in. One hand cupped Gibbs' neck, thumb circling forward to keep the man's jaw tilted at the proper angle, while the other slid up Gibbs' shirt. Fingers were momentarily splayed against the center of his chest, pushing as if he wanted to reach through his ribs to grasp the life giving muscle contained within. 

 

Gibbs' arms wrapped around his waist, one hand laid flat against the small of his back, near the waistband of his pants, while the other was lightly scratching up his back to bury the long digits in Tony's hair, gripping and kissing back just as roughly. There was anger in the kiss from both sides. There was hurt. There was a frantic need to express everything that could not be put into words with ease for either of them. Tony's fingers moved and brushed over a nipple, lightly scratching with nails that threatened to turn into claws, already starting to subtly sharpen, causing Gibbs to make a surprised noise into Tony's mouth that may or may not have started off as a moan but was choked off by the man's steely will. 

 

Tony broke the kiss to move onto Jethro's neck, leaving open mouthed kisses and harsh bites across the expanse of the man's throat, deep enough to leave marks but just barely avoiding breaking the skin. His hand continued to move across the older man's chest, lightly scratching and toying with nipples until they were hardened nubs. Jethro pulled him closer, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment or two, before snapping back open, schooling his features into a barely calm mask. 

  
“DiNozzo... Tony... We can't do this now.” At hearing the protest Tony snarled, deep and low in his throat, nipping at him again. 

 

“Why not? We've waited, we've argued, sort of made up even...” And he was, as usual after fresh blood, so easily aroused it was maddening. 

 

“Because I'm not going to let you push something after we've had a huge fight and you're still upset.” Gibbs countered, trying so hard to be the voice of reason. Tony just pouted at him, resisting the urge to whine or look too dejected. 

 

“Don't you want me?” He asked, trying one last tactic to weasel his way into Gibbs' bed and get what he'd been wanting for far too long now. Jethro's initial response was to grip him more firmly by the hips and pull Tony flush against him, letting him feel for a moment the evidence of how much the older man did indeed want this to continue, want _Tony_ to continue. 

 

“Of course I do.” He groused, reaching up with one hand and lightly slapping Tony in the back of the head. “Why do you think I keep wanting to do this right? Because I don't want a little spat to drive us apart if we get into it in a place where we can't just....” he pauses here to gesture vaguely, trying to come up with the right phrase. 

 

“Fuck it all away?” Tony supplied helpfully in a low murmur, right in Gibbs' ear, gliding his lips over the shell before indulging himself by grinding their hips together, giving them both a bit of delicious friction to hopefully sway Gibbs to his side of things. “I don't see the problem with that...” The younger man's voice was nearly a purr, mouth returning to the older's ear, lips running over the shell in a light caress. 

 

“I know that. And if I didn't care about you so damn much I wouldn't fight you on this. We'll get to that point, where we can just get everything worked out that way, but relationships are supposed to be more than that.” He stilled Tony's hips with his hands, and, gently enough, forced him to take a step back, giving him a light kiss before stepping away from the wall by skirting around him. He was just far enough away that Tony could have any choice of where to go. 

 

Tony just stared at Gibbs, conflicted between his instincts of 'pursue, take, keep' and the logical part of him that knew that there was a time and a place for that. He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Fine, whatever. I'm gonna take a shower.” Tony went to brush past Jethro and paused, stealing one more kiss to let him know that he wasn't mad anymore so much as immensely, incredibly frustrated. Eventually, the shower was on and the water was steaming and warm, wrapping Tony in it's loving embrace. His mind quickly used the leftover anger and aggression to slip into a fantasy of where he would have liked that intense makeout session to have gone. 

 

_He and Gibbs were naked on the bed, and Tony was covering him with bites that break the skin, causing Jethro to moan as the anticoagulant mixture that coated his fangs set off every pleasure receptor they hit as they traveled through the older man's bloodstream. Tony had Gibbs pushed down and pinned, knees on wrists as he slowly moved further down, eventually scratching down his arms to replace his knees with the slim yet firm fingers of his hands, in order to lick and suck at Gibbs' erection. His tongue toyed with the slit, gathering and spreading the delicious liquid beading there and tearing moans from Jethro's throat. He took Jethro down to the base, then back up again before a hand fisted roughly in his hair and pulled him up for a kiss. The older man was uncaring of the blood that still seemed to cling to lips and tongue, mixing with the taste of precome that had just been added._

 

_Two slick fingers slid into him, causing a moan to pull from his throat. Jethro swallowed the noise and continued to kiss him, tongue invading his mouth and sliding against his own in time with the way the dexterous fingers opened him up, hand still clenched in his hair to hold him in place_ .  
  
Following the cadence of his fantasy, Tony worked one finger into himself, muffling a groan in the crook of his other arm as he braced a forearm against the wall of the shower, relishing in the stretch and slight burn as he eased the way for a second finger. In the back of his mind he remembered why water was a terrible lube, but he couldn't find it in him to care as the slight pain quickly gave way to pleasure. He had to remember to be quiet, as the last thing he wanted was to make things awkward between him and Jethro. It had been sort of unspoken that he was getting in the shower to get off, but he _was_ in the older man's house and he didn't want to make it that obvious. 

 

_Soon enough a third finger joined the other two, and Tony couldn't help but rocking back into the touches, hands rhythmically clenching and unclenching on Gibbs' chest until there was a crisscrossing of short dark pink lines beneath his fingertips. As Jethro's fingers crooked and found that wonderful bundle of nerves inside of him Tony broke the kiss, arching his back and throwing his head back as a keening whine tore from his throat at not only the sheer unexpectedness of the sudden onslaught of sensation, but how deliciously roughly he was being treated. The lingering anger made for an excellent fuel to twist with anything pleasurable and just on the other side of painful and make it all mix together in the best ways._

 

_While fucking himself on Gibbs' fingers was wonderful and all, soon enough Tony was pushing Gibbs' hand away so he could realign himself over the other man's hips and slide fully onto him in one smooth motion, allowing another whining moan to spill from his lips. Nearly immediately he set a rough pace for himself, lifting up until only the tip of Jethro's cock was in him, before dropping back down until he had the full length in him once more. He'd roll his hips ever so slightly each time he repeated the process, but it wasn't until Jethro suddenly would thrust up on Tony's way down and keep his hips lifted and tilted just so that Tony really began to unravel above him, lifting up and nearly slamming back down, guided by calloused hands on his hips helping ease the strain on his muscles and keep him balanced whenever they had to change angles or whenever Tony would toss his head back with a moan and arch so violently from the pleasure shooting through him that Jethro thought he would tip over._

 

_Gibbs' own blue eyes were half lidded, and he was seemingly mesmerized by the way Tony's head would drop to his chest as he panted and rode him, only to throw it back with a moan, baring his throat whenever Jethro would thrust up into him._

 

It didn't take too long for Tony to remove his arm from under his head to wrap his fist around his cock, squeezing and stroking in counterpoint to the fingers he kept thrusting inside of him. As he lost himself in the fantasy, his fingers moved faster hitting his prostrate with every thrust, breathing coming in ragged gasps and exhales through his nose, biting his lips to keep as quiet as possible. Tony worked himself over more and more quickly as the figures in his imagination moved closer to their inevitable climaxes, and when the brunet's washed over him it was all he could do to stay quiet  _and_ not sink to the floor with a thump, release spilling over his fist and against the shower wall, only to be washed away before Tony could open his eyes. 

 

He took his time catching his breath, slowly washing his body and hair, almost whimpering at the loss of his fingers on himself and the fact that even after several weeks of dating and knowing each other for years, he still wasn't getting anything from Gibbs more than what he had already gotten. 

 

As he got out of the shower, clean and calm, a seed of doubt had planted itself in his mind. What if Gibbs was only putting up with this 'relationship' because he was worried about losing a good agent? He shook those thoughts out of his head and dried his hair with the towel, Gibbs wouldn't do that. He was an asshole, but he wasn't  _that_ much of an asshole. 

 

By the time Tony was dressed and went down to the kitchen, Gibbs had coffee ready for them both. If he had heard anything, or noticed the way Tony's lips were slightly swollen and red from his biting on them to try and keep quiet, he didn't say anything. The only clue was the brief widening of Jethro's pupils and a slightly quickened heartbeat before the man turned away and picked up the paper to begin reading. Clues that Tony, in his rapture with the coffee, completely missed. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some, more than likely poorly written, smut at the end of this chapter as a reward for all of you for putting up with my hectic posting schedule (or lackthereof). Believe it or not, it was the shower scene that took the longest to write. Feel free to give me constructive criticism, but please be gentle. My muse is finicky enough as it is :( 
> 
> But I have already started on the next chap, so there's that.


	21. Worth the wait?

 

It took nearly a week for Gibbs to get completely back into Tony's good graces and get him to stop completely withdrawing from the remainder of the team. No official apology had been given, but Tony found a gift on his desk every morning. The gifts ranged from simple, a bag of his favorite coffee, to borderline extravagant, a new gold watch with a single red rose. Tony smiled and ignored the comments from the rest of the team, humming thoughtfully over each and every gift. Each was wrapped with a gold and red ribbon tied in a simple, yet still somehow elegant, bow.

 

There was never a note that explained who the gift was from, but the way Jethro reacted when Tony met the older agent's eyes gave him everything. Each time Tony looked at him in question over the items presented to him on his desk, Jethro met his gaze evenly, and his lips quirked up in the briefest of smiles, causing Tony's cheeks to heat and a grin break over his formerly confused features. What finally broke him down was, unsurprisingly to Tony, a moment in the elevator.

 

Gibbs had told Tony to follow him rather suddenly one afternoon. The tone of the older man's voice left no question whether or not he could possibly argue or tease or complain without getting the mother of all headslaps. So Tony went, and he went quietly. Gibbs stopped the elevator between floors and crowded him against the wall, cupping his face in a hand and running his thumb over Tony's lower lip softly, smiling at the way Tony's pupils instantly reacted, blowing open with lust. Tony's lips parted ever so slightly, and hazel met blue.

 

“Jenny wasn't your fault.” He murmured, continuing to brush his thumb lightly over Tony's lip. When the words registered Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, breath catching ever so subtly. “Jenny wasn't your fault.” he repeated, voice as soft and tender as the actions. Though Tony's pupils hadn't completely returned to normal, the range of emotions that the younger agent experienced were still easily picked up. Confusion, guilt and pain warring for the top spot on his face, and so Gibbs just leaned in, brushing his lips against Tony's forehead, cheeks, and even the bridge of his nose, murmuring the same words between each kiss, until the tension drained out of him and he sunk more completely against the elevator wall.

 

“How did you know....?” He eventually asked, voice hardly above a whisper. Jethro just ran his thumb across his cheekbone before returning it to the younger man's lips.

 

“Because Tony,” he replied, just as quietly, while his free hand slid down his agent's arm, lightly grabbing his hand, unsurprised when Tony laced their fingers together. “I pay attention to you. I knew how you would get and seeing the look on your face when I told you to go home just confirmed it. You would take this personally, and needed to be reminded that she was not your fault. She knew what she was doing. She knew the risks. Jenny Shepard was not your fault.”

 

“I was supposed to...” Tony started, and Jethro shook his head to cut him off just as quickly.

 

“You weren't given all of the information. She knew exactly what was going on and she only told you what she felt you needed to know to get you to do what she wanted. Jenny was not your fault.”

 

“But when you....” He trailed off here, eyes dropping and falling onto a spot on the opposite wall, near the floor. Gibbs tilted his chin up more firmly in response, forcing Tony to look at him.

 

“Yeah, I was a bastard. It's been known to happen. I've also been wrong before.” Gibbs paused here and ran his thumb over Tony's cheekbone again, just as gentle as he had been before. “And I know when someone really deserves this. Tony...” Gibbs paused again, making sure the younger man was truly looking at him. Which Tony was, hazel eyes rapt, locked onto Gibbs' blue ones. “Tony I'm sorry. I shoulda never taken it out on you.”

 

For a moment Tony couldn't breathe. It was almost as good as a declaration of love. Gibbs _never_ apologized. It was, in Tony's mind, one of the main reasons why he lost three wives to divorce. “Jethro...” he eventually murmured, quiet and breathy. Tony was still staring at Gibbs like he held the answers to the universe. However, in Tony's mind at least, Gibbs always had. He slowly reached up and ran his fingers through the older man's short hair, before brushing the faintest of kisses to his lips. “I forgive you...” He murmured against Jethro's mouth, before kissing him again. “I'll always forgive you.” 

 

They stood there like that for a while, it felt like forever and only the briefest of moments all at once to Tony, lips gently brushing across each other, hands sliding delicately over bodies as not to muss the clothes they had to wear into a room full of the brightest agents in D.C., neither of them saying a word or making a sound beyond the soft puffs of breath each gave.

 

Until, of course, curiosity killed the cat. And the moment.

 

“Not that I want to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything...” he began, just above a whisper, sliding his arms around Jethro's waist to hold him there. One eyebrow arched up, curious as to where this was going. 

 

“We're not gonna fool around in the elevator. We've spent enough time in here as it is...” Gibbs replied, dryly, but with just the faintest spark of amusement in the quirk of his lips. 

  
“No... no, I mean yeah eventually, but no... I just wanted to know... why did you apologize? Isn't that breaking a rule?”  
  
Gibbs looked thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging lightly, just the small raise and drop of a single shoulder. “I dunno if you've noticed DiNozzo, but I break a lot of my rules for you. I break em when I feel it's worth it.”

 

Tony smiled, even as Gibbs pulled away to start the elevator up again. He couldn't help it. Gibbs had, intentionally or not, just admitted that Tony was worth it to him. Worth breaking rules, worth apologizing, worth potentially making an ass of himself with those gifts.

 

The whole rest of the day he couldn't help the dopey smile that was etched onto his features. He even pretended not to hear McGee and Ziva whispering about whether or not he had gotten a little action between Gibbs taking him off and him following the older man back not even a minute behind.

 

“Tony and _Gibbs_?” he heard McGee ask incredulously, voice a low whisper as he was eyeing him from around the monitor. “You do realize Tony's not a redhead and Gibbs has a rule in place about that, right? Not to mention the fact that they're both...” He made a subtle, but pointed gesture to his lap to avoid finishing that sentence. 

 

“Stranger things have happened McGee....” Ziva mused in response, before a sharp 'Hey!' from Gibbs sent her back to her desk, some lame excuse about thanking McGee for paperclips falling from her lips out of reflex. 

 

*/*/*

 

Tony had just gotten out of the shower later that night when a knock sounded at his door. He finished pulling on the pair of flannel pants he had chosen before draping the towel around his neck, to catch any errant drips of water from his hair.

 

The knock sounded again, almost more tentative this time, as if the caller was unsure of his actually being home. “Hold on, hold on...” Tony called in response, doing a cursory glance of his living space to make sure nothing that would out him was accidentally in the open. When he was sure he was all clear, he unlatched the lock on his door and opened it, only to be standing face to face with Jethro. A brief look of surprise flashed across his features, before a grin broke out and Tony stepped out of the way so the older man could step inside. He watched Jethro's eyes skitter across his still damp frame then back up before he entered.

 

“I wasn't expecting to see you tonight...” Tony stated, not at all upset by the sudden appearance, “Sorry it took so long getting to the door.” 

 

“It's fine.” The man replied, “Didn't mean to interrupt your shower.” 

 

“I was already out, just had to put on some clothes.”  
  
“There was no need on my account DiNozzo.” The smirk blossoming across Gibbs' lips caused heat to rise in Tony's cheeks and caused his tongue to dart out to moisten suddenly dry lips. The rapt attention from Jethro's bright, blue eyes caused that same heat to move slowly down Tony's body, the flush stopping at his shoulders, before pooling low in his belly. 

  
“Did... did you need something Jethro?” Tony asked, quietly, mind flashing with every possible outcome of that question. There was a brief moment of hesitance in Gibbs' eyes, and he nodded, a quick little jerk of the head, before closing the door firmly behind him, hardly taking his eyes from Tony's own.

 

“I was thinking 'bout today.” He said, before adding, in an afterthought, “about the elevator.” Tony's heart stuttered in his chest at that admission. Things could either go very right from here, or terribly, awfully wrong. Tony still held out hope because although he had seen the steely reserve to end a relationship in his boss, that was not the look he was getting now. Gibbs seemed almost hesitant though his pupils were widened, blue eyes a shade darker from lust. 

 

“Yeah...?” Tony's voice was low, hesitant, as if talking too loudly or sounding too excited would break the trance that had seemingly come between them. 

 

Gibbs looked for just a moment like he was going to try and say something, but ultimately had decided against it. He took a step closer, then another, until he was completely in Tony’s space. Any trace of the heat or arousal that had dampened with their minor conversation was replaced and then some, as Tony could hear Gibbs’ pulse thrumming from across the small space, smell the arousal pouring off of the other man in waves, feel the heat generated by his body. Then almost as if by sheer magnetism, their heads were tilting and lips were slotting together like puzzle pieces.

Tony wasn’t sure who opened their mouth first or if it was a moment of perfect synchronicity, but soon tongues were pressing and rubbing against each other, slick and warm, alternating the mouth they were in with no hurry or rhythm. Sometimes Gibbs was licking into his mouth, tracing teeth and tongue, sometimes it was Tony pressing into Gibbs’. Gibbs’ hands moved slowly over Tony’s skin, lingering water droplets easing the slide and making the rasp of Gibbs’ callouses less rough and able to bring more of those delicious sparking tingles in their wake. In response Tony slipped his hands up under Gibbs’ shirt, exploring but not rushing. Already his head was spinning from the sheer surprise. He hadn’t expected Gibbs to come to his house, nor did he expect that the older man would be kissing him like this. It was almost as gentle as the elevator, only with a sense of urgency tinging the way their hands moved over each other.

 

The kiss broke and Tony's lips moved down over Gibbs' jaw, scratching against five o'clock shadow, before dipping to his throat and pressing a chain of kisses from one side to the other. Gibbs' hands moved again, one resting across the back of his neck, the other low in the curve of his back pulling him closer. He could feel the weight and heat of Gibbs' erection through his clothing, just like he was sure Gibbs could feel his with nothing but the thin pair of pants separating the flushed skin from the open air.

 

He couldn't help the way his hips tilted forward, giving them both the faintest bit of contact and friction causing Tony to exhale against the older man's neck. How long had it been since the boat? A week? Two? Tony's mind was hazy from the pleasure starting to thrum through him, and so time was bleeding together, all that existed was Gibbs and he needed more. His kisses turned hungry, turning open mouthed and interspersed with bites. The bites were soft at first, growing harder the lower he moved down onto Gibbs' shoulder and collarbones. Some of them were sure to bruise by morning.

 

The hand that was on his neck moved to gently pull his head back, making him look up into Gibbs' eyes. If his pupils hadn't been blown before, they were now. Granted Tony was in a similar state he was sure. “Tony....” The older man breathed, a hesitant murmur of his name that evoked a needy whine that try as he might couldn't be fully suppressed.

 

“Please...” He replied, voice just this side of begging out of sheer want, “Please don't stop this... It might not be what you came over here for, but I know you want it too, and I've been waiting for a lot longer than I usually do...” The words came out in a rush, uncertainty and embarrassment flitting over Tony's face as he waited for the response. He knew he was pushing, but he also knew Gibbs wasn't the type to be swayed if it wasn't something he wanted too. Jethro was too much the alpha male for that.

 

“You'll have to show me what to do.” Gibbs eventually murmured, sliding his fingers through the younger male's hair again. Tony sagged against him in momentary relief, before perking back up, starting to walk back towards his bedroom, trusting muscle memory to move him backwards through the space, and trusting Gibbs to not let him run into any walls.

 

“You mean you haven't even watched porn of this?” He asked, a teasing smirk on his lips, momentarily distracting him from just how hot the idea that he was, in a sense, still getting some of Jethro's virginity. “This is amazing.”

 

“DiNozzo...” The older man warned, the threat to end their tryst before it even began clear in his voice should this turn into the kind of teasing that Gibbs knew his Second most often placed on younger agents, the 'how could you not know this' type of laughter he often used with the men he wasn't planning on attempting to sleep with. Tony paused pressing a soft kiss to the older man's lips again, reassuring.

 

“No, no, not like that it's just... God you're going to love it. At least... you should.” The reassurance in his tone didn't match the hesitance that briefly flickered across his features. The 'what if I'm not enough' clearly present in his eyes with the last sentence. Tony turned to more properly lead the way into the bedroom, but Gibbs didn't move, instead pulling Tony back against his chest, arm snaking around his waist. He pressed hungry kisses into the brunet's neck, lips marking a path up to his ear, before ghosting over the shell of it, voice deep and low.

 

“Of course I'll love it Tony.” He agreed, using the arm around the more slender waist to tug him in, rutting slowly against that wonderful, firm ass, drawing a shuddery moan out of his companion. “Just because I'm new to having sex with men, doesn't mean I'm new to sex. And I think we've already proven just how much you turn me on.”

 

That turned out to be just the right thing for the silver haired man to say, causing Tony to press back into him, grasping at the wall to keep him upright. “Jesus Jethro. Keep saying things like that, and we won't make it to the bedroom.” Tony groaned, grinding his ass back into the heat that was Jethro Gibbs' cock. Spit was a terrible lube but he healed fast. He could handle a bit of pain later if it meant getting that wonderful dick inside him sooner. The idea just caused Gibbs to chuckle in his ear, low and dangerous sounding.

 

“Maybe next time DiNozzo.” He suggested, unwrapping his arm from around Tony's waist and giving his ass a little swat instead. “Bed today.” Tony couldn't help the way his heart stuttered in his chest at the idea that there _would be_ a next time. This wasn't ending any time soon. Tony wouldn't be left heartbroken again. If he wasn't already in love with Gibbs, that thought would have made him fall. He turned slightly, capturing Gibbs' mouth in another kiss, licking into the wet heat before sucking the older man's lower lip into his mouth, worrying it with teeth before laving it with his tongue, then popping away with a noise he thought must have been nearly obscene. 

 

Another wicked grin graced his features before he pulled Jethro the rest of the way into his bedroom, dropping his pants and stepping out of them with a practiced ease, kicking them off to the side of the doorway, as he pulled Gibbs closer to his bed, turning, sitting and undoing the man's pants and sliding them, as well as his briefs, down, while Jethro shucked his shirt in a fluid motion. Tony slid back into the middle of the bed, grabbing Gibbs by the hand and pulling him onto it with him. The extra weight on the mattress made it dip in a way that Tony could only describe as comforting. He continued to move closer to the pillows, before turning and digging through his nightstand drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube without looking and handing it to Jethro, who looked at it with a quirked eyebrow, before turning his gaze back to Tony, who, upon realizing which bottle he grabbed, had the decency to be slightly embarrassed. 

 

“Flavored lube Tony?” he asked, turning his gaze back to the bottle again. 

 

“I've... uh... had that one for a while.” he admitted, knowing that the strawberry pomegranate flavored lube was something that he had gotten as a Valentine's Day present a year or two back, and just hadn't finished up. He had what could be considered an embarrassing amount of lube bottles in his nightstand, although he could name at least one more person who had more, and usually said person was the source of his multitude of bottles, always having to share the latest flavor or brand that they loved. “I can grab a different one if you'd rather?” He offered, gesturing back to his nightstand. 

 

Gibbs shook his head and popped the top of the bottle open, pouring a bit into the palm of his hand, experimentally. 

  
“Your fingers first. Three should give me enough stretch to fit you fine. We can make due with two if one of us gets impatient.” Tony instructed, already distracted with the way Gibbs was spreading the lube around the palm of his hand, instinctively warming it with his mild examination. He had wanted to say 'if you get impatient', but had realized half way in that he was more likely to be the impatient one, begging to get filled with that thick cock. He already knew, from the boat incident, how good it felt in him, even if in him had meant his mouth. Tony could hardly wait for it to be filling him properly. God in all of this 'taking it slow' business he had forgotten how much he really missed sex, until the personification of it was here, in his bed, getting ready to slide fingers into him. 

 

Gibbs came to kneel between Tony's legs, after setting the bottle of lube back on top of the nightstand, and Tony obediently spread them more, lifting one and pulling it to his chest so Gibbs could get the best angle for initially slipping into him. A warm finger slid against his skin, teasingly light, the lube making the digit slide against him, with only the faintest drag of what he knew to be rough callouses. “You sure you want this DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, stroking across his skin again, and drawing a groan out of him in response. 

 

“Fuck Jethro, of course I'm sure.” He near growled, opening his eyes – when did he close them? - to look at him, seeking those lust darkened blue irises staring at him so intently. “Do you have any idea how much I've wanted this, wanted _you_? How long?” The answer seemed to be enough, answer the questions that were both asked, and unasked, and Gibbs slid the teasing finger into him, slowly enough to draw a keening whine out of him, arching his hips off to try and get more as his eyes slid shut again. When he opened him this time, Gibbs was staring at him, intently thoughtful, while still almost unfocused. 

 

“God Tony,” Jethro stated, voice dropping down octaves and near a grunt with the intensity of his breath. Tony could hear his heart hammering in his chest, sending blood everywhere into the older man's body and if it wasn't nearly the most tempting part about him right now. “Are you sure three'll be enough?” he asked, pulling a breathy laugh from the younger vampire's lips. 

 

“Like I said, we could even make due with two. It's just been a while. Nobody since you got interested... You can move your finger yknow...” Tony admitted, adding the last bit to draw attention away from how important the previous statement had been, at least to him. Giving monogamy to someone, admitting they were in a real relationship, both of those things were intensely difficult for Tony, and usually required so much mental preparation, yet Tony had given them to Gibbs without a second thought.   


He was pulled from his introspection by the slow pull of the finger from inside him, then the slide back in, both firm and steady in their motions, as if Gibbs had done this before. Another couple repetitions and Tony couldn't help the arch to his hips, moving counterpoint to his fingers. “Another...” he breathed, moaning when he felt the second finger breech him with the first. Gibbs was starting to get the hang of things, stretching him, a natural as he moved his fingers inside of him, pressing and sliding, until he brushed, completely by accident it seemed, across Tony's prostrate, causing him to arch suddenly and off rhythm, fisting his hands into his sheets with a shout, admittedly startling Gibbs. “S.... sorry Jethro...” he panted, “Just wasn't expecting you to find it so soon...”

 

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow and twisted his hand, finding the spot again, causing another moan and arch to pull from Tony. When Jethro returned to stroking his fingers in and out again, he made sure to press against his prostate once more on the outstroke, in order to slide a third finger into him near effortlessly. The result was Tony whining needily and grasping for Gibbs' arm, to stop him, lest he end the evening embarrassingly early. 

 

“Jesus Jethro,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets from where he had dropped his leg in his pleasure. “Are you sure you're new at this?” He should have fucking known that the man, now chuckling at him good naturedly with three fingers in his ass, was a fucking sex god of some kind. He needed to send offerings to whatever old gods his friends still believed in because that was the only way this was happening right now. Intervention of some higher power. 

 

“There are some things that are similar between genders Tony. I thought you knew that already.” Gibbs replied, clearly pleased with himself. Tony had known that, he just hadn't expected _Gibbs_ to know that. When Tony removed his hand from Gibbs' wrist the older man returned to stroking inside of him teasingly slowly, avoiding his prostrate almost completely now, causing Tony to groan in frustration after a short time. 

 

“Fuck me. I'm ready. C'mon Jethro...” he said, adding another impatient arch when Gibbs just slid his fingers into him one more time. “Please Jethro...I need you...” His voice had taken on a pleading note. He would beg if that was what Gibbs wanted. He could. It'd be easy. The filthy pleas were already springing to his tongue. He personally preferred his dirty talk to be on the milder side, but when someone had him this wrapped around their finger, he would utterly debase himself for them. Gibbs, as if sensing how close Tony was to cracking that thin veneer of confidence he wore, finally withdrew his fingers completely, earning another whimper from Tony, who suddenly found himself too empty. 

 

He rarely let others see this side of him. Rarely let anyone, especially men, close enough to see how desperately needy for affection he was. Rarely let anyone see his mask slip. But Gibbs seemed to get everything he tried to hide, all at once. For Tony sex tended to be about making his partner feel good, to get that validation that he was good at  _something_ at least when he was doing the penetrating. He admittedly loved getting stuffed full, however it brought out a side of him that could be overwhelming to others, embarrassing to himself, or give someone a power over him that he didn't want them to have. 

 

He had been waiting, hardly breathing, for Gibbs to press his cock against the now stretched opening, for what felt like ages. He opened his eyes, worrying, expecting the worst, only to find Gibbs watching him intently, lubed up hand slowly fisting his cock. 

 

“You ready Tony?” The man asked, voice a low rumble of barely controlled want. Tony swallowed and nodded, eyes flicking between Gibbs' own and the thick cock being stroked, ready for him. 

 

“I don't think I've ever been more ready,” There was a reflexive 'sir' that he just barely kept from leaving his tongue, but he doubted either one of them were ready for the implications of that one little word. He felt as much as saw Gibbs change his positions, and hooked a leg over the other man's hip, before closing his eyes again, waiting, wanting, ready. 

 

A divot near his head, then a soft press to his cheek and a quiet command. “Look at me Tony.” Almost immediately his eyes opened in response, to find Gibbs' face a hair's breadth away from his. There was then, a press of lips to his, soft and firm all at once, and Tony melted into it, allowing Gibbs to kiss into him all of the things that he couldn't say. The kiss felt like an 'I love you', and the slow glide of the cock into him made him feel whole, so impossibly full that he didn't know how to handle it. 

 

His brain shut off all higher thoughts then, mercifully, and his arms wound around Gibbs' ribs, fingers scratching and holding and heat. Lips breaking from the kiss as the man inside of him began to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up speed and strength, urged on by words and moans tumbling from his own mouth. Bites falling on the thrumming pulse in Jethro's neck, teeth barely kept from turning into fangs. His prostate being hammered with nearly every stroke, drawing whimpers and pleas from his lips between kisses. Heels digging into flesh as he moves in counterpoint, the sound of skin meeting skin in harsh slaps filling the room. A still slightly slick hand, rough with callouses, grasping his own dick and pulling, slowly at first then picking up speed until it was matching the nearly punishing pace Gibbs was setting. 

 

Then suddenly, Gibbs' thrusts lost rhythm, coming more quickly, and he stroked Tony more quickly, thumb slipping over the head with an inconsistent frequency. Then all at once, with a groan, Gibbs was filling him, hips shallowly thrusting through his orgasm. The sound was all it took to send Tony over the edge himself, walls tightening around Gibbs as he bit him again, this time sure to leave a mark in the junction of his neck and shoulder, right over his vein. It only narrowly avoided breaking the skin, although there were definitely furrows down Jethro's back and over his shoulders. He felt Gibbs settle next to him, could hear his breathing matching in harshness to his own, felt the softening dick slip out of him leaving behind a trail of fluid. 

 

Tony rolled into him without thinking, still craving the closeness almost as much as he wanted his breath back.

 

When they had both caught their breath a bit, Tony felt a hand brushing through the damp hair at his temple. He opened his eyes to find Gibbs watching him, a soft smile on his features. “Worth the wait DiNozzo?” he asked, referring to the, now embarrassing, admission that he'd gone longer than usual without, just for Gibbs. 

 

Tony felt himself flush, one of those full body flushes that started in his ears and moved down his neck and onto his shoulders and chest. “More than worth it Jethro.” He admitted, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket over them both. He could easily stay up and be ready for another round, or several, but he knew Gibbs probably wouldn't be up for another round tonight, so he let himself settle in for rest. “You're amazing.” He added, as Jethro chuckled again and pulled Tony against his chest, arm wrapped protectively around him as they both got comfortable and let sleep take them. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you all finally get proper smut! I think it's awful and that's why it took me forever to write it. I couldn't get it right. However I wanted to get this chapter up, as we're at about the halfway point and I realized it's, once again, been a year or so since I updated. God I'm terrible to you all. I'm sorry.


	22. Rosary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly plot elements going on. Little bit of borderline domestic fluff at the beginning. But mostly plot advancing things.

Tony woke slowly, curling his body into warm blankets and the abundance of pillows on his bed. He had had wonderful dreams the previous night, dreams of warmth and safety and Gibbs. Dreams of the future. The team's future. All of them accepting him, what he was, what he and Gibbs were. Of turning them all and spending the rest of eternity with them. Of doing good forever. A happy family, unlike the one he grew up with.  
  
He reached out a hand, reaching for Gibbs, meeting air. Twisting slightly, he reached behind him, hand finding only cool sheets instead. Even the feeling of dried semen and lube was missing from his ass, thighs and stomach.  
  
He felt dread slip down his spine, ice cold, as he slipped out of bed, retrieving his discarded pants from the now empty floor with a mechanical motion, pulling them on out of a force of habit rather than any attempt at modesty or decency. He opened his bedroom door and walked down the hall, stiff after last nights' activities.  
  
He had been so caught up in the idea that Gibbs was _gone_ that he didn't pay attention to what was happening around him. What his senses were telling him. So he was, in fact, immensely surprised when he went into his kitchen and found Gibbs cooking breakfast for them both.  
  
"Feelin alright DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, noticing the look on his best agent's face.  
  
"Yeah boss..." the word slipped out, reflexive in his shock. "Just thought you left is all..."  
  
"Disappointed I'm not gone Tony?" The question was met with a quick, but vigorous, head shake.  
  
"I was disappointed when I thought you were," He clarified, sitting at his kitchen table. "I keep expecting you to wake up and remember you're not into men."  
  
"I'm not 'into men' DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, scrambling eggs. "I'm into one specific man. Never had considered it before you. Probably wouldn't ever again. You seem to be the exception to most of my rules."  
  
"You have a rule about dating only women?" Tony asked, to take some of the focus off of how Gibbs' admission made him feel.  
  
"You and I both know I don't."  
  
Silence fell over them then, Jethro watching Tony and Tony staring at anything but Jethro then, sorting through the information without being fully capable of processing all of it.  
  
He didn't do traditional relationships. He had known every past relationship he had ever had came with an expiration date. This one did too, and Tony found himself wishing more than ever he could erase it.  
  
The toast popped, startling him out of his thoughts, and Gibbs turned to finish making breakfast, serving them both plates as they sat.  
  
"I'm glad you stayed." He finally admitted, smiling softly around a bite of eggs, not quite the sustenance he wanted this morning but somehow he doubted Gibbs would be as easygoing if Tony took a bite out of him instead.  
  
"Of course I did DiNozzo. You can't get rid of me that easily."  
  


Tony smiled and continued to eat his breakfast. He really hoped Jethro was right. Tony wanted nothing more than to keep the man for as long as they both lived. Possibly forever, if he could get the older man to come around to it. But that'd mean being less chickenshit and more open, honest and bold.

 

Alas, that was a conversation for another time.

 

The next few weeks of work were amazing for Tony. He came to work early, most days in a phenomenal mood, was on top of his game in the field, and bullets that by all means should have hit him went zipping past without leaving so much as a scratch. Save for the single one that grazed his bicep, and causing Gibbs to become extra protective of him towards the medical staff who were treating him. An hour and one unfortunately weak painkiller later and he was in Jethro's car, being driven home.  
  
He managed to convince Jethro in and into his bed, laying there cuddled up to the man he never thought he'd get to have. He couldn't believe this. Him. Them. _Cuddling_.

 

His father would have an aneurysm if he knew. Then pass it off as a "folly of youth" and wait for Tony to lose interest in his boss before pushing him into an arrangement with someone he deemed 'more suitable for their lineage'.

 

Either way, Tony didn't want this to ever go away. Which is why, perhaps, he should have expected it all turn on its end sooner rather than later.

 

He had been providing backup with Ziva and McGee. He hadn't been there. Couldn't have, with all of the speed in the world, made it in time by the time he knew what was going on.

 

And Gibbs.... Gibbs was....

 

The steady beeping of the monitor was the only thing telling him Gibbs was still alive after that damn explosion.

 

He hadn't even been able to come to the hospital right away. Hadn't been able to do a damn thing.

 

Well aside from his job. But he'd give up his job in a heartbeat, his place on the team, anything, _everything_ if it meant Jethro would be okay. Abby was on the other side of the bed, the only other one able to worm their way through the nurses. Tony had pulled the boyfriend card (truth), the 'I was planning on proposing' card (half truth) and the 'just had a fight' card (not quite a lie), which combined with totally not real tears making themselves known on his lashes got him through.

 

The sun was just beginning to rise, and over the steady beeping Tony prayed to any deity that could hear him and stood a chance of listening to a vampire. A lapsed religious one no less. Maybe he should get Ami or Matt to pray? Those two attended church weekly. They probably had clout. Unlike him, who was mildly worried that he'd burst into flames the minute a priest looked at him.

 

He'd give up anything if it just meant Gibbs would be okay.

 

Gently, slowly, he pressed a kiss to the back of Gibbs' hand. He didn't care if Abby saw, though if she did, she didn't let on. He kept his forehead pressed to Gibbs' hand until long after his back seized up in complaint. When he lifted his head back up, away from skin that seemed too thin even though he knew how tough that skin could be, Abby was dozing fitfully in the chair and the sun was fully up streaming brightly through the window. It was unfair how nice of a day it was setting up to be. He didn't remember falling asleep, wasn't sure if he even had or if he had just fixated on all of the sounds that Gibbs made. He had just listened to the rasp of the ventilator, the beeping of the heart monitor, and the pulse fluttering slow and even under Gibbs' too thin skin.

 

'Please....' he thought to nobody in particular, 'please...' It became his mantra.

 

It took one week. One week of no sleep. One week of running all day while he went to find the son of a bitch that blew up his boss. One week of spending all night murmuring prayer after prayer against Gibbs' too still hand. Brushing kisses against his forehead, his knuckles, his cheeks.  
  
His own personal rosary.  
  
He didn't eat. He didn't intentionally sleep. He barely even got blood. Pretenses be damned. He was going to stay until Gibbs woke up. And if he didn't.... if he didn't Tony was going to do everything he could to try and fix the damage.  
  
Even if that meant giving him a gift he didn't ask for. A gift he couldn't return. Or ever be rid of.  
  
But it meant Gibbs stood a better chance. Besides Tony would rather have Jethro alive and hating him than dead or incapacitated for the remainder of, what Tony considered anyways, his likely pathetic life.  
  
After all, who would Jethro be if he couldn't do the things he loved?  
  
He was in the field when he got the call saying Gibbs had opened his eyes. The relief was so great that it nearly tore a sob from his lips.  
  
He would have run to Jethro's side, but he still had a job to do. And Tony wasn't going to let Gibbs be mad at him for not doing his damn job. No matter how much he'd rather be elsewhere. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to get worse before it gets better. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.


	23. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the slur mentioned is queer, used in the derogatory manner, rather than discussing the community. It's only the one. I'm sorry if anyone is truly upset by this.

It was after midnight before Tony was able to get into Jethro's room. The man in question was asleep, but with fewer tubes in him, signaling a healthier outlook. He hadn't been updated with much, other than the 'he's woken up, and his brains may have been a bit scrambled' which, after a severe concussion could happen.

 

Hell, he had had his brains scrambled enough that it took him a while to recover from an especially bad one, and he had a higher healing factor than humans did.

 

He had settled into what had become known as 'his' chair, right at Gibbs' bedside, and threaded their hands together as much as the still plentiful tubes and wires allowed.

 

After a moment or two Jethro's eyes fluttered open, hazy from the painkillers and sleep. His mouth opened, attempting to form words, but still struggling to voice them.

 

Tony smiled softly, brushing knuckles against Gibbs' cheek and murmuring placating shushing sounds, an attempt to tell Jethro it was okay if he didn't speak. Wanting to tell him that being awake was enough, hell, being _alive_ was enough.

 

Jethro quieted for a moment, clearing his throat after a bit and trying again. "S...Shannon?" The word was as much of a question as it was a statement. Where was Shannon? Why wasn't she here? Bring her to me. The same kind of not-a-question that he had heard his father utter to the various staff as he was growing up. Only, instead of a woman's name, it was his. And instead of looking out of love it was because he had fucked up.

 

Still, as much as his heart broke at the name that was definitely _not_ his, he couldn't fault Jethro for still looking for the woman. She had been, as far as he heard, completely amazing.

 

"No Jethro. It's Tony. Yknow, DiNozzo?"

 

The man in the bed made a non-committal noise before closing his eyes again. Tony patted his hand gently, bordering on a caress, before withdrawing it and settling into his chair more.

 

"Sleep, boss," He said quietly, "you'll feel better in the morning." It didn't take long for the older man's breathing to even out at the suggestion, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts once more.

 

When the morning shift arrived and a familiar nurse came to check on Gibbs' vitals there was a smile that seemed almost forced in it's attempt to be cheerful. Like she was privy to a secret he had yet to find out. "Were you here all night?" She asked, knowing that to agents, and significant others of agents, visiting hours meant next to nothing. Besides, he didn't disrupt anything, no matter how much he wanted to make Jethro remember him. To wake up asking for him and not his dead wife.... he couldn't... _didn't_ blame Jethro for that, but the longer the man slept, the more it stung.

 

"Most of it. He woke up for a minute.... asked for Shannon...." Tony said, dropping his gaze back to the man in the bed. "Didn't seem to recognize me at all. And I know some degree of amnesia with terrible head injuries is common, so please don't...."

 

The nurse just fixed him with a sad smile now, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving.

 

Tony just sat, waiting and watching in silence, until it was time to go to work. He was acting as team lead while Gibbs was in the hospital, and as much as he hated to go... he knew Jethro would murder him if he neglected his duties. Still, before he left, he wrote a note. Explaining who he was, in the simplest of terms, and that he would come in an instant if he was wanted or needed, along with his phone numbers, both personal and work, before writing that he would be back after work.

 

He could hear the whispers. Ziva and McGee tittering about how haggard he must look, not physically but emotionally. 'He looks like fecal material' he heard Ziva murmur as she went to ask McGee a question that she already knew the answer to, as pretext. 'Shit, Ziva, the expression is he looks like shit.' He heard McGee reply, in a tone that said, although the probably didn't want Tony to hear him, he agreed.

 

His team wasn't the only ones murmuring either. Other agents in the building were whispering, not always about him specifically, sometimes it was the whole team, sometimes it was just about Gibbs. The most noticeable thing was when he went down to visit Abby.

 

He didn't get a chance to say a word before he was enveloped in a huge hug from the petite woman. She squeezed him until he thought his ribs would break, buried her face in his neck and just held him like she expected him to break down. "He'll be okay Tony. Gibbs is always okay," She murmured, and he could feel her voice sinking into his skin as much as he could hear it. "And he has even more reason to this time. After all, you---" he cut her off here with a gentle squeeze and a soft 'Don't Abs.'

 

She pulled back from him and gave him a searching look, every bit the scientist, putting the pieces together. "His memory?" She questioned, cautiously. He gave a tense nod in response. "Oh Tony...." she cooed, hugging him tightly again. "I'm so sorry...."

 

He forced himself away from her, gently taking her hands in his, before stepping out of her embrace, game face on. "What do you got Abby?"

 

A week later, Tony rarely showing up when Gibbs was awake but spending every night in Jethro's room at his bedside, and Gibbs was ready to be released. Tony showed up then, dressed to the nines and filled with a cheerfulness that was completely over the top. Sure he was excited to work on restoring Gibbs' memories of him, but he was incredibly exhausted and honestly a bit afraid of it not working.

 

He pushed the wheelchair down to the car and quieted once they were driving, humming softly along with the radio instead of giving a running commentary on how the latest new releases measured up to each other and their source material.

 

He jogged up the stairs and set Gibbs' bag down before returning and hovering near the top. "So time for me to return the favor you did of taking care of me with that plague business." He announced, beaming at the man still standing in the main room. "Should I put my stuff in the usual room or yours?" He asked before returning down the stairs.

 

"You're not staying, I don't need anyone to take care of me. Why would you put your crap in my room anyways?" Gibbs groused, pursing his lips tightly. The brilliant smile dampened by several degrees.

 

"Nobody was saying you needed anyone. I wanted to. And I'd put my stuff in your room because we're together." The sharp laugh cut Tony off and rooted him to the spot.

 

"Did Franks put you up to this?" Gibbs retorted, scowling at him.

 

"I what....? No! Why? Nobody's putting me up to this. I'm here because..." he took a deep breath, steadying himself. May as well put all of his cards on the table. "I'm here because I love you."

 

Tony hadn't realized he had stepped close to Gibbs while he spoke but he was sure as hell in the other man's space now. "I'm not gay DiNozzo. This is stupid. I wouldn't have a boyfriend and I'm not in love with anyone but Shannon."

 

"You're selectively bisexual Gibbs, and you chose me. You could have had anyone and you picked me! I'm not letting you go that easily." Tony took advantage of the tension that zipped between them, of Gibbs' hesitance to refuse him again, and leaned forward in a kiss. The instant their lips met however, the spell was broken, and Tony found himself thrown, rather bodily, onto the couch, Jethro glaring down at him.

 

"I don't know what I was then but a lot's changed. The one thing that hasn't is I'm not a goddamn queer! I was in the marines for fuck's sake! I don't know what is in your head right now, but it better be gone when you come into work tomorrow."

 

And with that Gibbs stalked to the kitchen. Tony gathered himself, stunned into silence, from off the couch and walk to his car starting it without thinking and beginning to drive.

 

After a while he pulled over to the side of the road and parked. Slowly he folded into himself, arms pillowed on the steering wheel, head dropped onto them, car rumbling softly as it idled. He wasn't asleep, he wasn't crying, he was just.... numb.

 

Blank.

 

Empty.

 

He didn't know how long he sat there, relatively dead to the world. Someone tapped on the glass of his window and it took him a while to turn and look, even longer for the shape to become clear. Brown curls and green eyes.

 

Monique? What was she doing here? Hell... where the fuck was he?

 

He rolled down the window and she leaned in. "You look like shit agent," she told him, "trouble in paradise?"

 

Tony's only response was to put his head back down on his arms. "How'd you find me?"

 

"You're outside the club, dumbass. C'mon," she unlocked his car door and pulled it open, before tugging him out of the car. "You need a drink."

 

Tony went with her, listless and being led by the hand like a child. Had he been truly himself, he would have commented on how fucking weird Monique was acting. He had never seen her this... _nice._ Normally she was all bluster and bravado. Always trying to prove how tough she was. Granted, had he been himself, he probably wouldn't have gotten her to be nice to him anyways. 

 

He was escorted to the VIP area, and Ami brought him a couple of drinks, jaw clenched and posture stiffer than he had ever seen it. One look at her made him feel even worse, because he knew what she was thinking. 

 

“It's not his fault,” Tony murmured, “He got blown up. His brain's all messed up. He just wants his first wife. His _dead_ wife.” He took a deep breath and downed the first drink, staring into the depths of the second. “He'll come around. He's got to. I can wait forever.” 

 

“You shouldn't have to wait.” She grit out, tensing her nails rhythmically against her palms. 

 

“Please don't. Don't do this Ami. It won't help.” 

 

“I know. Keep the drinks coming?” 

 

“You're an angel. A gorgeous, redheaded angel.” He told her, still not looking up as she walked away. 

 

The rest of the night passed in a blur, anguish mixing with blood and alcohol, and by the time he showed up to work he looked worse than he had previously, and was as close to hungover as he could get without actually falling asleep. 

 

Agents gave him a wide berth and even his own team, beginning to collect in the bullpen, gave him a wide, silent berth. 

 

An hour or so after he started working on paperwork he realized he had been staring at the same page, the same line, the same  _word_ unsuccessfully for the last who knew how long, Tony's desk phone began to ring. He picked it up and answered it with as much of his usual enthusiasm as he could muster. Director Vance was on the line, telling him that he needed to see Tony immediately. 

 

Stomach dropping as to what Gibbs could have said, Tony muttered a 'yes sir' and hung up. He stood, swallowing a mouthful of water to stop the sudden and violent twisting in his guts. 

 

Feeling as if he was headed to a firing squad, he ascended the stairs. 

 


	24. Goodbye

Tony trudged up the stairs, feeling like he would be walking to a firing squad. Had Gibbs turned him in for sexual harassment? After his reaction last night it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. He was gonna be fired. Tony was certain. The only fate worse than that would be if he was reassigned as agent afloat.  
  
Stuck on a boat with no access to blood, sometimes for months? Ami had told him what would happen if you went too long.... and he didn't have any intention of going into a frenzy and murdering a ship full of seamen.  
  
He'd have to resign. That was it. He'd quit before he'd let them assign him as agent afloat.  
  
With his decision made, he stepped into the antechamber before Director Vance's office. He had barely gotten through a hello to the secretary before Vance opened the door himself and called him in with a scowl.  
  
Tony's stomach dropped to his feet but he nodded and entered, nearly throwing up on the spot when he saw Gibbs standing there as well. He swallowed through the burning bile in his throat and offered a curious, but respectful smile instead.  
  
"Director Vance, Boss, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He said with an air of calmness he only wished he felt. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks to keep from clenching them into fists.  
  
"I ain't your boss, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, folding his arms across his chest and leveling an even stare at Tony.  
  
Vance cut through the tension without acknowledging it, hardly wasting a moment. "Agent Gibbs is taking some time after his recent injury to re-evaluate things."  
  
"There's no re-evaluating Leon." Gibbs cut in, dragging his steely gaze from Tony in order to level a glare at their Director.  
  
"As a result, while Agent Gibbs is taking his sick leave," once again the director was cut off by Gibbs.  
  
"Sick leave my ass Leon, I'm retiring." Gibbs interjected, unheeded by Vance while Tony's head spun. Gibbs? Retiring? What the hell was going on? Was this because of him? Did Gibbs not feel safe here anymore? No that was silly. Gibbs could do anything, make anywhere safe. Because that was who he was, what he did. Tony couldn't change that.

 

Could he?  
  
"You will be acting team lead. Congratulations on your promotion Agent DiNozzo." Both sets of eyes returned to him. Vance's hand stuck out for shaking, and reflexively, Tony withdrew his hand from his pocket to grasp the director's firmly in his own.  
  
The words about his promotion took a while to sink in, as Tony was still caught up on Gibbs' retirement. When it did hit him, he waited for the joke to come, the laughter, the derision. But none came. He looked between Gibbs and Vance, before murmuring a quick 'Thank you sir' although even he wasn't sure to which sir he meant. Part of it was to Gibbs, for not turning him in. For not chucking his ass out of the agency that felt so much more like home than his empty apartment did. Part of it was to Vance for thinking that a colossal fuckup like himself was worthy of a promotion. Of leading a team. Of being in charge of other lives.  
  
He was dismissed and walked down the stairs, robotic and stunned as he went to his desk, sitting heavily and staring at the pile of papers on his desk without really seeing them.  
  
"Uh... Tony?" McGee asked, "everything okay?"  
  
"Gibbs retired. Vance made me team lead." He muttered, monotonously. This was not what he had expected. This was not what he had planned for when he came to work this morning. Ziva and McGee both made exclamations of shock but Tony didn't say anything. He didn't move until he heard the too familiar footsteps on the stairs. Mouth dry he stood and followed them to the elevator, slipping in just before the doors closed. He pressed the button for the floor below theirs and hit the stop as soon as it started. He took a deep breath and turned to face Gibbs, eyes downcast, but flicking up to meet Jethro's every so often.  
  
"I know you're going to quote rule six at me, but don't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you said you didn't remember. I can't say I didn't expect us to end one way or another... I knew your history and you knew mine. You were never really ready to be out either. I was to pretty much everyone but the team so..." he stopped and shrugged here, falling quiet again, for just a moment or two. "But I had thought that maybe... we could have done what we always did and beat the odds. I mean I realized last night that you probably were just using me to scratch an itch and I get it. I mean I should have expected it with my reputation. But I thought you actually...." he cut himself off here before he could make a bigger fool of himself and redirected it, "thanks for not getting me fired because of last night." He flicked the elevator back on, "and thanks for letting me be team leader while you're gone."  
  
The elevator stopped, and Tony stepped out turning and moving quickly until he got to the bathroom, entering and going to the sink. He steadfastly didn't look in the mirror, knowing that if he caught a glimpse of himself too early he'd fall to pieces and it would take him ages to recover. Instead Tony checked to make sure the bathroom was empty as his ears strained over the pulse pounding in them over held breath, hoping against hope that he'd hear those sure and even footsteps coming towards him down the hall.  
  
But there was nothing.  
  
He collapsed onto his forearms at the sink as his knees turned to jelly beneath him.  
  
He allowed himself fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds of breaths heaving in not quite sobs, still silent as he could manage. Fifteen seconds to let the pent up anguish out. Fifteen seconds to overcome the fact that he had almost told Gibbs that for their short time together, still longer than most of his relationships, he had felt wanted and loved, that he had felt personally worthwhile in a way he hadn't in ages.  A good man, not just a good agent.  
  
When those fifteen seconds are done, he slows his breath, schools his emotions, forces his feet back under him. He rolls up his sleeves, turns the cold water on full blast, and splashes himself in the face several times to remove any traces of redness or puffiness, even though he did not cry. He wouldn't. No matter how much his eyes burned and throat constricted.  
  
Once he was able to look in the mirror and see no traces of his breakdown he turned off the water and dried his face. He rolled down his sleeves, fixed his hair and stepped into the hallway. He couldn't help the deep inhale through his nose he took, subtly searching the hallway for Jethro's scent. He had hoped, a small, traitorous, part of him had hoped, that Gibbs had at least come looking for him. After all, that would mean there was still something there.  
  
However the air was clear of anything and everything that even remotely smelled of Gibbs.  
  
He sighed and went back up a floor, jogging up the stairs as he continued to put himself back into his work headspace. He had a job to do after all.  
  
Tony would do his job, lead his team, become the man that they expected him to be. Serious, diligent, efficient.  
  
And he would make sure everything worked flawlessly. Even if it killed him. It was his second chance. He wasn't going to waste it.  
  
He wasn't going to let Vance down. He'd already let so many people down. His father, Gibbs, himself.... he wasn't going to let down one of the few people that still believed in him down. He'd rather die before he let that happen. Which meant he had to get it together. For Ziva and McGee's sake. If he was a mess, then he'd accidentally put them in danger. If he put them in danger because he didn't think things through, then he'd never forgive himself.  
  
"Alright team, here's the game plan," he began as he walked into the bullpen, posture exuding cool confidence and a sense of seriousness that people rarely saw on him. "New management new us. Lets start by cleaning and reorganizing. Making things more efficient. We are going to be the most efficient team on the whole Navy Yard."  
  
Groans echoed from Ziva and McGee, though neither fought him openly. They seemed to sense that something was going on with him. And if this was what he needed... then it was what they were going to do.

 


	25. S.O.S.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I'm not dead! I've been writing bits and pieces out of order. I'd say we're almost 2/3 done. Maybe even 3/4. Thank you all for sticking with me for these many years. This chapter and the next one are based off of Shalom, the opener to season 4.

His new placement was going wonderfully. Really, it couldn't be better. Three months of leading his team, complete with a new Probie to teach in his own special way. Hell, he had taught McGee everything he knew. Well. Most of what he knew. About being a field agent. Most of what he knew about being a field agent.

That was it.

They had found their groove relatively quickly, settling into the spaces each agent left behind them as they moved up a rung on the ladder. Tony turning into someone who was more Gibbs than DiNozzo, McGee stepping up and turning into a damn fine agent, Ziva... learning to control herself more than she ever had before, and Lee... well Lee needed a lot of work but she'd get there. If Ziva and McGee could get there, Lee would.

As he stepped off the elevator, bags in hand, to see the team, plus Abby, all in the bullpen he stopped and admired his people for just a moment. Abby was loudly announcing that she was checking his flight information, and then bickering for a moment with both McGee and Lee, before Abby looked up and noticed him.

“Tony! You're home! Oh yay! I missed you! Welcome back!” The woman exclaimed, running at him and throwing her arms around him in a hug. It was familiar and comforting and he lost himself in the sensation of being held for just a moment, wrapping his arms around her trim waist and holding her in place, tucking his head into the crook between her neck and her shoulder and just breathing in the familiar scent.

“I missed you too Abby,” He murmured into her skin, causing her to squeeze him tighter. God she was strong for such a small girl. He always would forget.

“Oh did you have fun? Did you go to that cool bar in D **ü** sseldorf?” She pulled back just enough to give him a wink as she asked the question, before burrowing back into his embrace. 

“Y'know I tried, but that security conference kept us pretty busy.” A lie. He had gone to the bar, and hooked up with a gray haired man who held just enough of a resemblance to Gibbs through the haze of alcohol that he couldn't resist. Even if the man's hands had been too soft, missing callouses from guns and woodworking, and the timbre of his voice had been all wrong. But if he squinted _just right_ , the guy had looked enough like the man he.... was quite attached to. Tony had bitten into his palm to avoid shouting the wrong name as he came, not that he had bothered to learn the man's name. The guy didn't know his name either so it was only fair. 

Abby made a noise low in her throat, almost like she didn't believe him, and squeezed him harder in response. He gave a soft wheeze and shoved idly at her. “Abby, I can't breathe.” He gasped out, adding an extra breathy note to his voice for effect. She released him looking scandalized, even as he grinned and patted her on the head, lightly tugging one pigtail and claiming no permanent damage was done. 

He spun around in place, before looking between the three people gathered in the bullpen with a frown. “Where's Ziva?” 

“Late,” Agent Lee said matter of factly. “Its the second time this week.” Tony frowned at the announcement, looking over at McGee who shrugged. “She's over an hour late, sir. That's unusual even for her.” Lee continued, even as Tony walked over and perched on her desk. 

“Probie, what did I tell you about worrying?” Tony asked her, looking down his nose at her, tone serious. 

“That it's your job.” She replied, causing him to grin.

“See? You're learning!” Lee didn't look convinced, worrying her lower lip between her teeth for just a moment. 

“But... Sir I'm sorry but she's not answering her cell phone either” Lee pointed out, rubbing the thumb of one hand over the back of the other hand. 

“Okay there is only one thing you need to know about Officer David” Tony pointed out, resting both hands on the knee closest to her.

“Never make her angry.” Lee replied without missing a beat. That lesson had been quickly learned, the first time Lee had found herself on the sharp end of one of Ziva's knives. 

“So technically, there's two things really. The other is... she can take care of herself.” Tony told her, looking over at McGee and Abby to prove his point, while they both nodded emphatically. 

It wasn't until an hour later that he started getting nervous. Ziva hadn't shown up, and she still wasn't answering her phone. He, McGee and Abby all took turns leaving her messages. This time it was McGee's turn. “Now I'm starting to worry,” Tony murmured to his senior field agent, who – although didn't feel right as a right hand – was competent in ways that Tony himself had never managed to reliably feel throughout his time as Gibbs' right hand. 

“You think she's all right?” McGee asked, more musing than expecting a real answer. Still Tony went rigid, leveling a glare at the agent. 

“If she was okay, McSpeculative, she'd be here.” He snapped, checking his phone and the time once again. 

“The question is, what would Gibbs do in a situation like this?” McGee's words were soft, rhetorical, and entirely too cutting in their imagined accusations. Gibbs wouldn't have _lost_ Ziva in the first place. They all knew better than to go dark on Gibbs. He walked back to his desk, adjusting his sleeves as he moved behind it, tapping at the keyboard for lack of anything else to do that would help belay his sudden burst of utter uselessness. These feelings were nothing new, having beleaguered him for years now, since he was a teen if he was being honest. The pressure to always be the best, the most competent, second to none – or only one if his father or Gibbs were involved – had been there ever since he could remember. 

And this? 

 

This felt like failure.

Failure was not, and had never been, tolerated.

“He'd find her Tony.” The director's voice snapped him out of his thoughts from the stairwell, and he instantly turned to meet that gaze. 

“I'm working on it Director!” Tony announced, resisting the urge to snap to a salute, but only just.

“Well work harder.” Vance told him, as he surveyed the team, trying to get an idea of who was doing what, before his eyes settled back on Tony. “ Metro Police just found her car on a sidewalk in Georgetown.”

“Well...” McGee said, interrupting Vance's attempt to bore holes in all of them, but especially Tony, “Actually that's not so unusual when Ziva's driving.” 

“I know. I've heard the stories. However, the FBI doesn't usually concern themselves with traffic accidents.” Vance nodded towards the elevator, as two men in suits stepped out.

Not for the first time today, Tony was glad he had on his own suit. 

“You knew they were coming Director?” Tony asked, glancing at the staircase again. Vance just gave him a look and then subtly nodded at the space beside him. An invitation to join in the meeting. Because it was his team. Because Ziva had been 'lost' on his watch. He hated it when invitations felt like accusations. 

Introductions were made. They made their way up to Vance's office. Tony and the suit who was supposed to be him got into a pissing contest. And then both were simultaneously thrown out of the office on their asses. 

Honestly it wasn't unexpected. 

So why did it hurt so damn bad? 

Why did it feel like a dismissal of his abilities? An unspoken 'you'll never live up to my expectations'? A kick in the teeth?

Honestly he struggled to figure out what this felt like, after all every which way he tried to label it made it feel like Gibbs telling him off and leaving over and over again. 

When Director Vance came back out and summoned them up to the door leading to his office, Tony took the stairs two at a time in his haste to be punctual. 

“Director would you please tell Agent Slacks here -” He ignored the man's indignant outburst correcting his name, and continued “- That we will be handling this one in-house?”

Vance just fixed him with a bland look, before turning to the aforementioned FBI agent. “I just assured your Director that the FBI will be getting NCIS's complete cooperation in this matter.” He turned to Tony now. “If Ziva attempts to contact you, or anyone else on your team, I want yout o notify both myself and Agent Sacks immediately.” 

“This is complete bull-” His curse was cut off with a sharp look and an even sharper statement.

  
“This is an order from your Director,  _ Agent DiNozzo _ . Is that clear enough for you?” 

Tony ground his teeth as he attempted to keep his features still. He knew his fangs and claws would pop if he wasn't careful. The last thing he wanted was an investigation into his humanity along with a missing agent and a pile of disappointments on him so deep he felt like he was drowning in them. 

“Almost crystal, _Sir_.” he spat in return. 

As Agent Slacks informed him that he'd do his best to keep an open mind, Tony turned and started down the stairs, just barely avoiding stomping his way down. 

“Oh and Tony,” Vance called after him, causing him to turn on the stairs, looking back up at him. “About what you asked me earlier. What would Gibbs do?” Vance waited for his nod of acknowledgment before continuing, “Gibbs isn't here. You are.” And with that he turned and entered his office, closing the door with a click that seemed to bounce around Tony's head. 

Vance couldn't have made him feel worse if he had tried. He needed help, not a 'you're the only one I've got.' He needed.... he needed Gibbs. And there was one person who knew where to find him. A deep breath, a square to his shoulders and he continued down the stairs. He had a mission now and he knew exactly what to do. It wasn't going to help his pride any, but it needed to be done. 

One Kaf-Pow from the local gas station, and a black rose from the local flower shop later, and Tony was standing in Abby's lab, looking a mix of pleading and authoritative. 

“I know what we need to save Ziva from this mess.” He told Abby, handing her the rose and setting the Kaf-Pow on her counter. “And for that I need a phone number. I know you have it Abs.” 

The woman before him sighed, and wrote the number down on a scrap of paper. “You better know what you're doing Tony.” She warned him. As if she didn't regularly talk to the person on the other end. 

“Of course I do. I'm not some Probie like Lee.” At least, he hoped he knew what he was doing. He patted Abby on the shoulder and clasped the number in his free hand, careful not to disrupt the careful fold hiding the digits. Spinning on his heel, Tony walked back to the elevator, stopping the machine between floors a-la Gibbs. 

He stared at the number for a long time, before pressing them methodically into his phone and hitting call. When the voicemail message sounded, Tony sighed, both thankful and disappointed that he wasn't speaking to the person live. 

“Hey... so I know I'm the last person you would want to speak to right now... But shit's really bad. Ziva's missing and wanted by the FBI. They think she's murdered some people and we don't know where she is. Vance knows I'm not you. Everyone knows I'm not you. Please Gibbs. We need you.” The ' _I need you_ ' went unspoken. “Call me and tell me what to do. I _know_ you're retired... but I wouldn't be asking if it was just about me.” He let the phone call end there, hanging up and slipping his phone back into his pocket with a practiced ease.

He doubted the man would call. He left for good reason. So Tony needed to come up with a backup plan. And fast.


	26. Team Ziva

Gibbs spoke to Abby at least once a week while he was retired. Usually during supply runs. She kept him abreast of the situation with the team, fixing him with that disappointed tone if he tried to escape it.  
Sometimes if something big happened she'd call and leave a voicemail. But it wasn't anything too bad.  
  
Until the day Ziva went missing.  
  
Abby called and left no less than three voicemails throughout the morning. Then DiNozzo left one after lunch. He wasn't sure what ruined his buzz more; the fact that Ziva was missing, or the fact that Tony wasn't handling it well at all. The new team leader sounded like he was falling apart at the seams and leaving him sad voicemails.  
  
Damn it Tony. Didn't he learn that you don't show your weakness at work?  
  
"Aw come off it Gunny, don't you remember your first year as leader?" Franks screwed up his face and held a mock phone to his ear, time turning whiny, "'Mike how do I solve this case? What does your gut say boss? What do I do now?'" The voice returned to normal. "And that was just within the first three weeks. He didn't call you for three months. I already like him better'n you."

In spite of himself Jethro shook his head, hiding a smile behind the rim of a beer bottle. He had to admit that now that the scrambled eggs that had once been called his brain had settled, Tony was, to some degree, an enjoyable person. Even if the venue had been inappropriate, he went to great lengths to make his team smile. His memories after the accident hadn't held any of him smiling. Not the real one that came after he told a good joke, or had bothered one of his teammates.

He remembered what Tony had tried to tell him, about them and figured he was the reason his star agent hadn't smiled anymore. Abby had told him the smiles were fewer and thinner now. That Tony wasn't himself anymore.

Her tone had left no room for interpretation as to who she found at fault.

He didn't know what she knew, but he just didn't remember.

It still felt like some sort of joke on him. That he had been.... interested in a man like that. He didn't think he had ever been prone to those sorts of inclinations. He didn't hate that his agent _had_ had them, not really but it was just... weird and confusing and easier to fix up Mike's dog-rot house in the Mexican heat. 

Honestly he probably wouldn't have come back, were it not for Ziva calling him herself. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was that – as he tried to remind her – he was  _retired_ . And that meant he didn't take cases and he didn't go back up to the states. 

But he owed her, and she needed him, so he returned. 

She had been waiting for him in his basement, devoid of any boat or woodworking supplies, save for the scraps he had stored in various cabinets and shelves. He opened an upper cabinet and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, fingers brushing against a piece of wood left behind, before he pulled out the nearly empty bottle. He poured some into a mug for Ziva, and emptied out an old jar before pouring some into it for himself. Gibbs raised his jar to Ziva in a mock toast before downing it, as her phone rang. 

“Gibbs? Why didn't you say so?” She said, before handing the phone over to him, mouthing 'Tony'.

“DiNozzo.” He greeted, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have ten seconds to explain to me exactly why I am not building a teak hot tub in Mexico.”

\---

Standing in his basement half an hour later with the whole of 'Team Ziva' – mainly everyone who had been a part of his old team – was almost surreal. Abby and Ducky kept staring at him, as if expecting him to do something, but he just couldn't help noticing that Tony looked so tired. He hadn't seen his agent look so drawn since the incident with him staying nights to work as well. Was that why Abby and Ducky kept looking at him like that? Because Tony had been trying to prove himself? To live up to some unsaid expectation? 

He'd have to talk to the two of them after this mess was sorted out. 

While they combined intel in a sit-rep he noticed Tony seemed more on top of things than he had expected from the two phone calls. He was, correctly, finishing sentences with pertinent information and acting more like a team leader than a junior agent. It was both surprising and not. In a good way. 

As they all took stock of the information Tony held out a phone to him. “Thought you might be needing this.” Jethro smirked and reached for the cell phone, only to divert to the coffee at the last moment. “I was... uh... talking about the NCIS phone... that's my coffee, Boss.” Tony told him, the faintest bit of familiar whine in his tone. The boy needed the coffee, judging by the bags under his eyes, but he had just flown for God knows how many hours, he needed it more. 

“Do I look like your boss?” Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow as he sipped from the chain store concoction, which sat too sweet on his tongue, but caffeine was caffeine. Tony looked at him, appraising.

“Well, maybe if you shaved. And a haircut wouldn't hurt. The smile thing's definitely throwing me off too.” Tony mentioned, gesturing at him with the phone, still dressed for battle in his possibly-more-expensive-than-before suit. 

“It's good to see you again McGee,” Jethro stated taking another sip of coffee with one of his 'new' smiles. He watched Ziva and Tony's brows furrow in confusion with no small amount of delight. 

“DiNozzo...” Tony murmured, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What'd I say?” He asked, playing innocent, running his thumb along the edge of the cup's plastic lid. 

“You called him McGee.” Ziva supplied, assuming it was still a leftover confusion from the explosion. 

“Yeah?” He leveled his gaze at first her, then him, all hint of amusement gone. “That's probably because if I left him in charge, you wouldn't be on the FBI's ten most wanted list right now Ziver.” He watched Tony momentarily look as if Jethro instead had reached out and struck the younger agent, before hiding it well. 

“But do you remember?” Tony asked, the question layered with some emotion – probably relating to that incident before he retired – and Jethro just took another sip of coffee. 

“That I left you in charge? Yeah I remember that I left you in charge DiNozzo. What I forgot was your taste in coffee. It stinks!” He didn't relinquish the cup however. 

“I like sugar.” He replied, and Gibbs had a vague recollection of something to do with Tony trying to get a doughnut, before he pushed it away. “It's my weakness.” 

“Things are bad enough for NCIS as it is Tony, you can't-” Ziva started, breaking the eye contact between Tony and himself as the younger man looked away, expression morphing into something he didn't remember seeing on his agent's face before. 

“I don't remember asking _your_ opinion _Agent David._ ” Tony snapped, gesturing at her as he made an attempt to stare her down, she looked to Gibbs instead, appealing to the 'higher power' in the room. 

“You see? He's been completely insufferable since you left!” She exclaimed, gesturing at Tony for emphasis. 

“Is that true Tony?” He asked, watching the younger man turn to him again, unrepentant and – Gibbs realized – angry. Though at what, Jethro could only guess. 

“When I have to be.” The man replied, and Gibbs gave him a nod and the barest of smiles. Approving.

“Yeah? Hm. Maybe you were the right man for the job.” The approval, even as insubstantial as it was, removed that angry look off of Tony's face, causing him to relax slightly. He took another drink of the coffee, then pressed it back into Tony's hand. It was almost empty now anyways. On his way up the stairs, he missed the meaningful look Abby shared with Ducky. He had to figure out how to keep their target from leaving the country. 

\---

Two days and two explosions later, 'the FBI' had closed the case. Meaning, of course, they had next to nothing to do with the collar, but got all of the credit anyways. He told McGee that he had a plane to catch, and walked away while DiNozzo was in a meeting with Director Vance. He didn't leave NCIS headquarters just yet however. Instead he went down to the morgue. 

“Jethro! How good to see you back in my office.” The older man exclaimed, turning away from his paperwork to look him over. “Going to be making a habit of it?” 

“Nah Duck, I'm still retired.” 

“It's a shame. Anthony's been more himself with you around. The two of you were becoming quite close before your accident.” Ducky remarked, getting up to make himself some tea. “He's been trying to fill your shoes ever since you left and it is running him ragged. He's not quite at the point where he's sneaking in nights again but-”

“Ducky. Wrangling DiNozzo isn't my job anymore. He's a big boy and knows his limits.” 

“Yes... yes I suppose he does. If you didn't come down here to talk about returning or to discuss Agent DiNozzo, why are you here? Not that I dislike your company..... But usually your visits have a reason.”  
“I just came to say goodbye Ducky. I'm heading back out to Mexico.” 

“Ah... the fabled 'teak hot tub' is it?” The expression on the medical examiner's face was almost impossible to read, even with Jethro's experience at it. 

“Somethin' like that. If the damn house didn't start falling apart again.” Ducky made an impassive noise, nodding and busying his hands with the electric kettle. 

“Well I'm guessing your flight leaves soon?” 

“Yeah, couple'a hours. I gotta get going.” 

“You know you'll always have NCIS waiting for you.” 

“Goodbye Duck.” Gibbs told him, chuckling softly. 

“It was worth a try I suppose. Goodbye Jethro.” Turning, Gibbs exited the morgue and went to get back on the elevator. If he visited Abby, he knew he'd never leave. Still, he had arranged for a Kaf-Pow to be delivered to her desk once he was safely out of the building. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments. Even the ones meant to poke fun at how irregular my replies are. The reason they're so irregular is that my antidepressants make it incredibly hard to be creative. Trust me I feel so bad already leaving you guys without updates for ages. But I keep all of the comments in a special folder of my email, because they're special.


	27. Paulson

"Well, we could set you up with Matt. He's an ex-cop, he knows what it's like. And he's got that perpetual resting bitch face going on just like Gibbs. So..." Adonis told him, almost a month later, sitting in the blond's apartment for a movie night.   
  
"I'm not going to rebound with Matt. I'm especially not going to go after someone just because he reminds me of my boss slash ex." Tony replied, forehead pressed to the blond's thighs, feeling the hand tangling through his hair as the attempt at comfort as it was. Not even movies was able to take his mind off of Jethro completely.  
  
"Okay. Well how about Ami? She's like his complete opposite. And she'd totally bring you lunch at work." The blond suggested, causing Tony to groan. He could almost hear the smile in his friend's voice.  
  
"Nis, I'm not going to get involved with any of your co-workers. Especially not your boss. And extra especially not one that could fillet me with her heels."  
  
"So.... Your co-workers then?" Nis suggested, and Tony could practically feel his grin.  
  
"No," Tony groaned again, feeling particularly dramatic as he shook his head, "I'm not going down that road again. I learned, rule 12 is there for a reason. Gibbs is retired, we're over. I'm going to lay off on dating until maybe the next century."   
  
"Oh sweetie, just because you're heartbroken now doesn't mean that you won't be ready to date again soon. As long as you hang out with me I'll make sure you've forgotten all about that asshole."   
  
"Bastard, Nis. The second 'b' is for bastard." The reply was muffled by Nis' legs, but it held an air of finality to it. Tony was finished with this conversation. He didn't need anyone to love him in order for him to be successful and happy. He was functionally immortal. He had all the time in the world. As long as nobody splattered his brains on the side of a building or chopped off his head, he'd be around a lot longer than anyone else in the team would be. Which means he'd have plenty of time to settle down in the future.   
  
Maybe adopt a kid.   
  
But right now he had a team to run, a job to do, and people to worry about who weren't as resilient as he was. Maybe this was for the better, maybe Gibbs' retiring meant the man would get to live to old age rather than be shot down prematurely, like Kate, like Jenny. He pushed himself up carefully, not intending to dislodge the man he was using as a pillow, instead reaching for the wine glass on the table, the brilliant ruby hue the only sign that it was filled with more than just red wine. He drained his glass and returned it, licking his lips before resting his head back onto Nis' lap.   
  
Between the movie playing softly in the background, one that he hadn't been able to bring himself to pay attention to, and the hand petting at his hair, it was no surprise Tony fell asleep without warning. He must have been exhausted because he didn't wake up when Adonis slipped out from underneath him and re-positioned him on the couch, but when he woke up, Nis was sleeping on top of him, head on his chest. They were still on the couch, but the closeness of another warm body was incredibly nice.   
  
Tony groped for his phone, and checked the time, groaning when he saw he only had a minute before his alarm would go off. Grabbing one of the discarded pillows, he slowly slid himself out from underneath Nis, earning garbled noises of complaint from the still sleeping bartender. Walking down the hall to his room, he laid out his clothes for the day and quickly jumped into the shower, wanting to get ready as soon as possible. He'd love to spend the day wallowing in his heartache, but he had a job to do.   
  
By the time Tony had showered, gotten dressed and was almost ready to leave, Nis was blinking awake on the couch, lifting his head and peering blearily at him. Tony walked over and carded his fingers through the blond's hair, smiling softly. "I'm just headed to work, go back to sleep." He felt Nis nod and saw his eyes close again, so Tony withdrew his hand. He honestly wished he could love Nis the way he loved Gibbs, but they just weren't compatible, as good of friends as they were. They were the same kind of high maintenance, and Tony took care of people all the time at work, he didn't want that all the time at home too.   
  
He hadn't been to the office for more than twenty minutes, most of which was spent bickering good naturedly with McGee about his over bleached teeth, when a hush fell upon his team. He looked, and there, headed up the stairs was Gibbs. He waited a reasonable amount of time, which of course let Gibbs get to the Director's office, before heading up the stairs after him, curious. Cynthia was sitting at her desk, looking irritated.   
  
"So what are they talking about in there?" he asked, leaning against her desk conspiratorially.   
  
"I wouldn't know. I don't eavesdrop," She replied, shooting him a pointed look. Tony attempted to use what he claimed was his award winning grin on her.   
  
"Come on, don't tell me you don't eavesdrop Cynthia. Every director's assistant eavesdrops." Cynthia just shook her head, smile light on her lips. Ziva hissed out a warning and Tony snapped off of the assistant's desk, ready to greet Gibbs as he exited the Director's office.   
  
"Hey Gibbs, what brings you back here? Just visiting the neighborhood?" He noticed the badge being tucked into the other man's jacket pocket. "Temporary reinstatement?" Tony waited for an answer but received none, the man barely breaking his stride. "Or... taking back your desk permanently?" Still no answer. Instead Jethro pulled out his phone. He'd figure it out eventually.   
  
Leaving Gibbs behind, Tony and Ziva returned to the bullpen, hovering by McGee's desk, while Gibbs took the only one without stuff on it at the far end. "Okay, I've got an idea," Tony murmured, watching their former boss out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe he lost his memory again and forgot he quit his job."  
  
"Wouldn't he be sitting at his old desk then?" McGee asked, a frown on his face.   
  
"If Gibbs wanted us to know what he was doing, he would have told us," Ziva pointed out, shooting looks over at Gibbs more openly than her two companions.   
  
"Oh right!" Tony huffed, quiet even through the tinge of frustration in his voice. "Because Gibbs would never expect us to figure it out for ourselves!" He wanted to snarl and push everything off of the desk. It seemed like every time he was getting his feet underneath him, here comes Gibbs once again, knocking him down on his ass.   
  
It was then that the elevator dinged open and Director Vance stepped out, toothpick in his mouth, followed shortly by Gibbs. "Gibbs is back on temporary assignment. The Paulson Case."   
  
Explaining the Paulson Case to Ziva and the team was an excersize in frustration for Tony. Gibbs kept cutting him off like he was still team leader. Going to see Abby in her lab was even worse. She kept insisting Gibbs would stay, that he just had to be back. If anyone on the team knew one thing, it was that Abby almost always got her way.   
  
"Maybe with you back things will start getting back to normal around here!" Abby was saying, bouncing on the balls of her feet while she looked pointedly between him and Gibbs, "Tony's been moping and scowling a lot more than usual and working extra hard, like he is when he's trying to prove a point, but I dunno what kind of point he's trying to prove because he's a good agent, and you're not here to ride him about silly mistakes in order to try and make him better. He's almost been like you and him mixed together this whole time!" She graciously left out the part where it fucked him up every time Gibbs popped back into the picture only to leave again.   
  
But it was only this one case. Tony just had to keep reminding himself of that. It was only the one case and then Gibbs would be leaving again.   
  
He held no hope that Gibbs was suddenly going to remember and change his mind about everything terrible that had gone on. Hope was dangerous and as long as he was here and Gibbs was in Mexico, there was no reason for it.  
  
All too soon - but still not soon enough - they were leaving Abby's lab to go see Mickey Stokes. The guy was the most likely candidate to find Paulson without a fuss.   
  
Tony used the drive as a way to update Jethro on all of the new protocols that had been implemented while he was gone. Bringing Gibbs up to speed on everything he missed served two purposes. The first was to give himself an outlet for all of the nervous energy that had built from Gibbs' sudden return, and the second was to remind the man that he had left and things didn't just sit pretty and wait for him to come back. He also knew how much Gibbs hated chatter and was using it as a tiny bit of payback for talking over him like he had done all morning.   
  
Granted he should have been keeping a better lookout while Gibbs was snarking with Paulson, Because he heard it, the faint thunk of a door opening and closing, then the hum of an engine turning over, and he was out the door just in time to watch Paulson drive away in their car. He chased it for a couple hundred feet, until it picked up speed and disappeared. Cursing, Tony kicked a nearby tree hard enough that his toes were stinging, then kicked it again for good measure. He hadn't even realized that his keys had fallen out of his pocket and landed on the driver's side seat as he was getting out. Paulson probably would have hot-wired his car anyways, but still.   
  
To be turned into a fool like that, in front of Gibbs? It stung more than he'd ever admit. He also wouldn't admit how much he craved one of the patented Gibbs head slaps sometimes. Because then it was over. He could let the mistake go. Learn from it of course, but let it go. it wouldn't have to bother him anymore. Because he knew someone was looking out for him.   
  
McGee was nice, but he wasn't the same.  
  
The remainder of the case came without any major embarrassments, which was great for Tony. Gibbs would be gone again, and then everything would be going back to the new normal. He could finish moving on with his life.   
  
He wasn't expecting to walk into the Bullpen to find Gibbs sitting in his old desk, Lee's things moved into a box, ready to be returned to wherever her next department was.   
  
Fuck.  
  
"Oh Agent DiNozzo." Director Vance said from the stairs, "Come join me in my office for a minute, I've got something I want to talk to you about."   
  
Double fuck.


End file.
